Shadows of Yesterday
by nebbyJen
Summary: The away team comes in contact with a hidden society that has a deadly past.
1. Default Chapter

Rating: K+ (but will eventually go a little higher)

Season/Spoiler: mid-One and none

Category: Humor, Adventure, Angst, H/C, Drama

Summary: A hidden society has adapted to the genetic mutations of an ancient weapon that has left them with a colorful outlook on life, until contact with visitors from Atlantis begins to pale their perspective. Only the combined efforts of both will be able to stop the next metamorphosis before it turns deadly. (Team fic with lots of extras from Atlantis. But, yeah, mainly the guys….)

Disclaimer: Once again, Atlantis is not mine. But feedback, I'll take. Those bunnies of mine are ravenous!

A/N: Betaed patiently (all four times) by Gaffer and encouraged by emergencyfan. (Periwinkle… rolling eyes ) Thank you!

**Shadows of Yesterday** by nebbyJ

Beckett was bored. It had been two days since Major Sheppard and his team had left for M68-798 and during that amount of time not one person had come to seek him out. With his facility vacant and his personnel enjoying their brief respite, he decided to check on the rest of Atlantis.

His first stop was to the jumper hanger where he knew there had to be some activity, and found Zelenka and a few other members tearing apart a control module. Parts littered the floor and the air was filled with the disgruntled ranting from the Czech scientist as he waved an odd shaped piece in the face of one notorious, Dr. Kavanagh.

"What do ya think? Do ya think? _This_ is concave crystal, not convex. If you had been listening to me when I explained it first time, you would have heard me tell you, installing this will cause overload. But, no! No, you think you know all. What, you magically make this work because you look like American magician? Penn and Teller not needed here! Scientist with brain needed here."

In return, his pony tailed antagonist shoved his glasses higher upon his nose and attempted to sneer down at the smaller man. "Dr. Zelenka, just because Dr. McKay is offworld, it doesn't give you jurisdiction over the labs. I need to complete my diagnostics of the containment units onboard the jumper. I'm not here asking your permission."

Undaunted by the taller scientist, Radek took a menacing step forward, causing the other to step back. "I already fix unit…yesterday. You go away, mix up batch of cookies with chemistry degree. I have work to do, not baby sit." Without a second glance, he returned to his project, clearly dismissing the unwanted intruder.

Kavanagh glowered. "We'll see what Dr. Weir has to say," he threatened, before turning on his heel and brusquely storming out of the jumper bay.

Several chuckles could be heard from members of the group once the door whooshed shut behind the chemist, Carson's included.

"Dr. Beckett, can I help you?"

He turned to meet Zelenka's steady enquiring gaze. "Nay, lad, I'm just out for a walk."

"Aye, too quiet with the others gone." The Czech nodded in understanding as he pulled off his glasses and scratched his head. "Maybe you go rescue Dr. Weir?"

Carson glanced about and realized the group was staring at him, waiting for him to leave. He opened his mouth to say something before stopping and shook his head. "I'll go check on Elizabeth."

Radek smiled, watching the Scottish physician head towards the doorway. "Good. Rescue fearless leader from evil ogre," he called out to the retreating figure, prior to the door closing.

SG: A

Just as he'd hoped, Tropical Storm Kavanagh had already blown through; leaving Dr. Weir alone by the time he'd reached her observation post above the departure room. Anger radiated off her tight controlled features as she stood scowling at the gate.

"Is everything alright?"

She blinked, surprised to find Beckett standing at her side. "Did you know I hand picked almost every person on board Atlantis?" Not giving him time to reply, she shook her head, arms tightening even tighter across her chest, "Where in the hell did he come from? If O'Neill sent him to test me, I will personally tell that Brigadier General exactly what I think of his recommendation and shove the order where the sun don't shine."

When the good doctor remained silent, she glanced over and caught his smile, and noticed the devious twinkle in his eyes. She couldn't resist and had to smile back, the tension instantly melting away, "What?"

"Nothing."

"Oh, don't even start with me," she said as she whapped him on the arm, walking back to her office.

Carson followed, nodding 'yes' as she held up a pot of coffee. "You miss them, too."

She passed him a steaming mug, taking her own to her desk and sitting down with a sigh. "It's too quiet. It feels like the calm before the storm."

"Oh, don't even say that, lass. They deserve a simple mission…we all do. No mysterious blow darts, arrows, or guns. I'm enjoying the silence." He swirled the coffee in his mug, taking a hesitant sip and then letting the warm flavor spread throughout him.

"You're a terrible liar," Weir laughed. "The only reason you're here is you have nothing to do and came to bother me." Someone entering the room behind the physician caught her attention, "Peter?"

"Incoming message from Dr. McKay. Do you want it in here or out at the main console?"

She glanced to Beckett and raised a brow as if to say 'See!' before nodding to the polite Englishman, "Main console." Mugs in hand, both doctors stepped back out to the control room.

"Rodney?"

"_Elizabeth. Good to hear your voice."_

"Likewise. What can we do for you?"

"_I was wondering if Beckett was available."_

Carson stepped up, instantly concerned, "I'm here, Rodney. Is something wrong?"

"_No. I thought you might want to come over and see the medical facilities. Dr. Spyder has offered to give you the grand tour if you're interested, and even a space to set up a small lab."_

Beckett's smile was back as he glanced to Weir and she nodded in resignation. "Fine, leave me here."

"I'll get my pack and be there in half an hour. Meet me at the gate?"

"_Take your time. Not like I was in the middle of a project or anything,"_ the scientist replied before signing off.

SG: A

No matter how many times Carson stepped through the gate, the mere fact that he'd just been discombobulated and spread out over the galaxy always left him feeling unsettled. Thank goodness he'd once confided in Rodney, and the man was irritably waiting for him on the other side. Apparently the rest of the team had abandoned him to the science labs while they continued meeting with one of the heads of the, the …"What are they called again, lad?" the distracted physician asked, glancing back over his shoulder as they passed an individual from the city.

"Crayonsies." When Carson nodded, apparently accepting the name, Rodney stopped to stare at his friend in disgust before continuing, "Another fine example of Lieutenant Ford's attempt at humor. Although, I must confess his description of Close Encounters meets Crayola was actually one of his better ideas. From what Teyla described earlier, Dr. Spyder went into a litany of genetic history that boggled Major Sheppard into a speechless stupor. Something I would have liked to have had the privilege to have witnessed, actually." His smirk was only greeted with silence, so he shrugged and continued, "The only piece of knowledge the major's brain cells gleaned was that they are called Krahns."

The two men descended a wide circular staircase for several floors, passing two more individuals along the way who smiled and nodded at them before they continued on. Carson had to stop this time to take a second look. "Did they just change colors?"

"For crying out loud," Rodney hissed, as he grabbed the Scot by the arm, dragging him through a doorway, into a large room filled with more gadgets and gizmos than either could ever possibly hope to decipher in a lifetime. "Didn't your mother ever teach you it's impolite to stare?" His rhetorical question left no room for a reply as he plopped himself onto the only available seat, "This is where Dr. Spyder said you could set up shop." With a quick look around, he shook his head with contempt, "Actually, you and I are to share the room."

Carson glanced about, just as displeased by the situation, "Oh, I don't think so. Didn't you tell him?"

"Oil and water? No. He didn't get the concept. And when I tried to explain, he merely changed colors. Do you have any idea how disconcerting that was? One minute the good doctor was a pinkish-purple before turning a strange pale yellow. I mean what is that all about?"

"Rodney."

"Did I tell you he turned blue when he met the major? It's like being trapped in a Theodor Geisel nightmare."

Carson rubbed his face and tried to hide a smirk, patiently waiting for the rant to end. "Speaking of color, how can you tell them apart? Does this Dr. Spyder look any different?"

"I've met around a dozen or so and they all appeared similar at first but the longer you're here, you'll notice the differences." When he stopped and became aware of Beckett's frown, realizing the man wanted a bit more of an explanation. "What? He's bigger than the other," he waved his hand in the air," the other 'people'. You should have heard the major's brilliant idea of watching for his and her wash rooms. Tested for Mensa, my…" Rodney abruptly jumped up, staring at someone who had entered the room silently behind Carson, "Dr. Spyder. Dr. Beckett and I were just discussing your facility."

The lone figure, dressed in a floor-length sand colored tunic, extended his purplish hand in imitation of the gesture he had learned from Major Sheppard. "Dr. Beckett, welcome to our city. Dr. McKay has told me that you are a great healer and find interest in the study of physiological origins."

"Genetics, actually," the Scot replied. Unsure of what to expect when he returned the handshake, he discovered the Krahn's firm warm grip made his arm tingle, similar to a static charge. He watched in amazement as Dr. Spyder turned an unusual shade of blue. "I'm sorry, is there something wrong?"

The doctor smiled, his color returning to its normal shade, "No. It is you and your single appearance that I find most interesting." Nodding to Rodney, he continued, "Dr. McKay has explained to me earlier, the most interesting theories in human evolution. Perhaps we could discuss this in greater detail while you allow me to show you more of our facility."

Now, there was an offer the Scot couldn't refuse. "I'd like that. Rodney, would you care to join us?"

Engrossed in contemplation of an odd shaped piece of equipment that had caught his attention, McKay glanced up distractedly and scowled, before fixating on the gadget once more. "No, thank you," he mumbled as he checked the underside. Clearly having returned to his pre-occupied working state of mind, he waved a hand in the air, shooing them away. "I don't have time to recite Harry Potter spells with the natives; I've got work to do."

"Well, if you need me," Carson began, but stopped when a smaller figure dressed in a dark green tunic brusquely entered the room, brushing past him.

"Put that down!" its female voice snapped, grabbing the equipment from a surprised Rodney. "Do you have any idea what you almost did?" Carefully replacing it to its original position, green eyes glowered in irritation from the red hued face towards the Atlantis scientist.

Dr. Spyder appeared amused as he addressed the newcomer to the room. "Connor, this is Dr. McKay. He is the physicist from Atlantis, here to learn of our technology." When she continued icily staring, not returning to the pinkish purple color, he cleared his throat to gain her attention.

She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, her flush gradually fading to normal. "Forgive me, Doctor. I was down in the power control room when the readings began to fluctuate, showing a spike in the laboratory. I didn't know you had given _your_ guest access to _my_ equipment while I was gone."

"Your concern is understandable, Connor. I apologize for not informing you earlier of his arrival to your facility. Dr. McKay, may I introduce Master Connor Tenbrook, head developmental scientist."

Rodney's tight lipped expression showed his displeasure at being scolded like a first year student, before he grudgingly extended his hand. "Master Connor, I apologize if I disrupted one of your experiments."

Carson nearly choked, hearing his friend's apology. Glancing back and forth between the two, he was surprised to see a mutual respect glimmer slightly between the pair. It must be a scientist thing, he surmised.

When her small hand reached out and cautiously grasped the Canadians, her coloring shifted to the blue that he'd seen with Spyder. "I accept your apology, Doctor." She then turned to face the other Krahn, "Havis, my direction is required at the power station. I believe Dr. McKay would most likely prefer to join me, finding it more agreeable than listening to you prattle on about mutated cell structures." Casting the Atlantis scientist a conspiratorial glance that offered an opportunity to escape, she nodded to the doorway, "Doctor?"

"Fine." Arms folded over his chest, head tipped sideways, Rodney followed the smaller woman out of the room while listening intently to her describe their power core transformers, neither individual, paying heed to those they'd left standing silent in the laboratory.

"If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I would have never believed it," Carson said, watching the two figures disappear down the hallway.

"What, Dr. Beckett?"

"Rodney, er, Dr. McKay has a way of being difficult and less than accepting of someone possibly knowing more than he does. And your Master Tenbrook, if I didn't know better, appears to be cut from the same cloth."

If anything, the older doctor's smile grew as he turned a darker shade of purple. "Yes, I too, see that. Connor can be a bit abrasive at times but she is very good at what she does." Guiding Carson to a shallow alcove at the end of the hallway, he stopped and held the door open to a small lift. Once inside, he turned to the Scot, "My family had great misgivings about our pairing, but since then have come to understand and accept her, realizing she is unique."

"She's your wife?" Carson glanced back down the empty hallway before the door slid shut. Maybe the major was right; all Rodney may need was a woman to put him in his place. Too bad this one was already taken. He couldn't wait to see Sheppard later.

TBC (Don't even act surprised, you knew it was going to be that way!)


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The interior of the massive city had Rodney following Connor for several hours as she explained how the complex had been built inside a mountain to hide from the wraith, so when the next culling was to begin, the planet would be seen as deserted. Once all the inhabitants were safely inside the new city, a biological plague was released into the atmosphere to kill every living thing not hidden in the sanctuary.

It was in coming across a piece of technology that he'd seen only one other place before that brought Rodney to a screeching halt. "Master Connor, this is an air filtration unit similar to that on Atlantis. How did you get this?"

She paused in her steady pace to study the equipment before continuing on, "The builders brought them when they helped us move the gate."

Feet firmly planted, he wasn't about to budge after that little bombshell. "The builders? Architects from Atlantis helped you build this city?"

Discovering that her guest was no longer following, Connor turned around to face her inquisitor. The agitation on his rapidly reddening face looked remarkably familiar. "They helped us build both of the cities."

"Both?" He needed to sit, or pace. Either would work right about now. Arms folded, he glanced about and not spying a convenient stool or ledge, he began stride back and forth across the hallway.

"Yes, two cities. Over time, we have joined them with tunnels, but in the beginning we used the gates as a means to travel between the two.

He stopped so quickly, his direct gaze boring into her, that Connor took a step back. "You have two gates?" he asked.

Not familiar with being on the receiving end of an inquisition, she found her emotional footing and stood up to the suddenly intense stranger. Her color began to darken red as she snapped, "Yes, millennia ago, we were granted a second gate."

"You just asked and were given a second gate?"

"Dr. McKay, why are you so surprised? The wraith cullings destroyed our civilization. We once thrived as a trading station between hundreds of planets; Atlantis was only one of the many. When the wraith began their raids, we asked for assistance and only the builders came." She, now, was the one stalking back and forth across the hallway, her hands tightly fisted at her side. "But to them and several others, our choice to go underground was considered too drastic a measure and they would not join us so we have waited _alone_, knowing one day, the builders might return. Only one signal would be able to unlock the outer planetary code to our gates, no others have ever been granted passage in case it was the wraith."

Rodney stood silent, staring down the long passageway they had come. "How long ago did you build the cities?"

"It has been ten thousand, eight hundred and fifty seven years."

He blinked. His arms unfolded as he leaned against the wall, tipping his head back to stare at the pipes stretching across the ceiling. "And the Wraith have never found you?"

"No. We were able to track their ships in our system every 50 to 100 years but they have not been back in over 500 years." Her color once again pinkish purple, she ran her hand over her hairless head and sighed.

Between everything he'd seen in the past couple of days and now what Connor was telling him, Rodney was amazed at the sacrifice the Krahn's had made. He needed to get back to the Major and tell him what he had learned, but he also needed to know more. "So you're telling me you've lived underground for close to 11,000 years. Have you ever gone back to the surface?"

"No. All of the exits were sealed thousands of years ago and our physicians believe that we are no longer able to withstand natural sunlight."

"Why not?"

"Dr. McKay…"

"Rodney," he interrupted.

She began walking down the corridor once more, "Rodney, we once looked like you, but over the generations our appearance has changed. Havis and some of the others believe that it is the residual effects of the plague, and the destruction of our atmosphere filtering down into our environment, that has caused our biological makeup to metamorphose."

"Haven't you ever wanted to leave?"

"It is not a matter of what I want; to leave is no longer an option."

They continued in silence for several minutes, each pondering their discussion. The nagging headache that he'd ignored for the past few hours made its presence known once more and he rubbed his eyes and back of his neck. Tension was always a bitch and the recognizable pain would only be eased with one of his infamous five minute power naps or a trip to the infirmary. With neither available any time in the near future, he tried changing the subject instead. "You wouldn't happen to have a spare ZPM, would you?"

Connor shook her head, before glancing up at the ceiling. "Our energy is collected from the sun reflecting heat into pools of water. We're standing underneath one as we speak."

His eyes traveled up, while his jaw dropped. If he hadn't been feeling claustrophobic before knowing he was in a buried city, the immediate anxiety of drowning washed over him causing the throbbing in his head to escalate. "There's a lake above us?"

Watching what little color the visitor had drain rapidly from his face; Connor decided they needed to return. "Perhaps we can continue this tomorrow."

Rodney nodded, his steps increasing in urgency as they neared an upward spiraling staircase.

SG: A

It had been a long two days for Major Sheppard with all of the diplomatic meetings, trade agreements to be made, and a general tour of the facility. Tired and ready to spend some time with an individual whose color didn't change, he asked his guide to lead him to the labs in search of at least one of Atlantis's wayward doctors. He was surprised to find it empty except for Beckett's duffle propped against a wall. "Any chance you know where my teammates might be?" he asked the pale blue figure standing beside him.

The young soldier nodded, tapping his earpiece. "Dr. Spyder's location, please." He listened a moment, his gaze falling on the major. "Yes. Do you know the location of the remaining visitors?" he questioned once more. "Thank you." The conversation over, his guide walked to the door, activating it to open. "If you would follow me, Major, I will take you to Dr. Beckett. He is currently in the biomolecular lab with Dr. Spyder."

"And the rest of my team?"

"Dr. McKay is with Master Tenbrook touring the engineering facility and Lt. Ford and Teyla Emmagan are in the aviary."

"Well, I'm glad to know everyone is having a good time," he quipped, and then scowled as it fell upon deaf ears. Some military guys just needed to lighten up. Where was Ford when he needed him? Of course that Crayonsie thing… he wasn't going to let his 2IC forget that one. How many times would he have to tell the kid to stop naming things?

His mental musings came to an end when his escort stepped inside a large doorway and directed him to two figures leaning head to head over some sort of contraption. Although both were wearing long sand colored tunics, Beckett's unmistakable brogue gave him away instantly.

"That's a bloody miracle. You actually have viable 10,000 year old DNA from before the metamorphosis?"

"Aye, but we have to keep it in the sealed air-tight chamber so that it doesn't come in contact with current conditions," Spyder replied.

A smile grew across Sheppard's face, hearing the Krahn's doctor imitate Beckett. Casually strolling up behind the pair, he leaned in beside the Scot, "What's up, Doc?"

The Atlantis physician's head came up with a snap, missing Dr. Spyder's by mere centimeters. "Give a man some warning, Major. Walking around like a bloody cat is gonna give someone a heart attack one of these days." One look at the cocky American's grin, he shook his head. "What brings you here? Do you need something?"

"Nope. It's just getting kind of late and I was wondering where everyone was."

"Havis and I have been here most of the afternoon. He's been showing me the most remarkable DNA mutation series that reflects the historical changes caused by…" stopping when the major held up his hand.

"Whoa, Doc. Save it for the Journal." He didn't miss the brief scowl shot his way from the Scot before the man turned his attention back to whatever it was he'd been studying. "You're as bad as McKay when I don't jump up and down over one of his new toys," the major mumbled.

Mention of the Canadian caught Carson's attention, reminding him of what he wanted to tell Sheppard. With one last longing look inside the 'microscope' he stepped away and leaned back against the opposite table. "Major, have you seen Rodney this afternoon?"

"No. I've been a little busy today. Why?"

"Well, I was wondering if you'd had a chance to meet Dr. Spyder's wife, Master Tenbrook. She's in charge of the developmental science division. A _very_ dedicated scientist, wouldn't you say, Havis?"

The Krahn's doctor smiled, his color darkening slightly, "I believe you said they were 'cut from the same cloth'."

Sheppard took up the position opposite Carson and folded his arms over his chest, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "I take it; our infallible doctor has met his match?"

"Aye, lad. And it was an amazing sight to see."

"See what?" Ford asked, entering the room behind Teyla.

"Oh, nothing, just discussing McKay," the major filled in, changing the subject before they could upset their host. "What have you two been up to all day? I haven't seen hide nor hair of either of you."

"We went on a tour of the city, Major. It is really quite fascinating, what they have incorporated…" Teyla started to say before Ford interrupted.

"Did you know they have a zoo here?"

Sheppard gave him the eye, "I spent my day in meetings and you went to the zoo, Lieutenant?"

The young man nodded eagerly with a teasing grin. "And the aviary. And you should have seen Teyla at the gardens, sir. She was about ready to jump ship from Atlantis."

"What is this jump ship? I was merely impressed with the variety and expanse of their farming techniques."

"Careful there, Miss Teyla," Sheppard teased with a fake southern drawl, "talk like that might get the farm hands a little rowdy."

Ford and Beckett's laughter was cut short as they both wiped the smirks off their faces, seeing Teyla glower at all three men, while Dr. Spyder remained cautiously quiet. A brief awkward silence fell over the room as the individuals pondered what to do next.

Sheppard was first. "How about we go find McKay and round up some dinner?"

"Havis?" Connor's voice called from the doorway, startling the group. "May I see you for a moment, please?" Her husband nodded, following her out of the room.

The major tugged on Beckett's sleeve, whispering out of the side of his mouth, "She didn't look so scary."

"Aye. But you weren't here earlier when she caught Rodney tinkering on some piece of equipment. I never saw anyone turn that color of red before," he whispered back.

"Who, Rodney or her?"

"Both."

They quieted as the two individuals returned to the room.

"Major, may I introduce my wife, Connor Tenbrook. She has just informed me that the council is having a banquet set up for this evening in honor of your visit."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ma'am," he said, extending his hand. With introductions over, he questioned to McKay's whereabouts.

"Dr. McKay requested that he be able to return to the guest quarters. He should be there by now."

Sheppard didn't miss the raised eyebrows from his team. A herd of wild horses usually couldn't drag the man away from alien technology. "Did he say what he needed?"

"No, Major, but I believe he wanted to speak to you."

"Oh, well then, let's not keep the good doctor waiting. Shall we?" he said, gesturing the others towards the door.

Ford, Beckett, and Teyla stepped out into the hall, leaving Sheppard with the Krahn's. "See you at dinner?" he asked.

"We look forward to it."

"Good." He headed back to his crew, nodding to their guide, "Home, James."

SG: A

They were surprised to find the guest quarters dark inside, with no sign of their missing scientist. Turning on the lights, Sheppard motioned for them to split up and look about the suite of rooms.

It was Ford who found him sitting on the edge of the tub in a darkened bathroom. McKay didn't even appear to notice the lieutenant as he had his face resting in his hands with his elbows propped on his knees.

"Sir?" Aiden prompted.

"Ford?" he answered quietly.

Kneeling down beside the doctor, the young lieutenant tried to see McKay's face. "Yes, sir. Are you alright?"

The doctor's head moved minutely before he swallowed. "Get Beckett."

Ford didn't need to be told twice and ran from the room. Finding the major and physician, he directed them both to the bathroom.

Carson got there first, taking up the kneeling position beside Rodney. "What's wrong, lad?" he asked, placing his hand over the quiet man's forehead. He could feel the heat of a fever radiating.

Rodney remained silent a moment, before looking up into the concerned faces of his friends, "I don't feel very good." He swallowed again, trying to keep what little he had left in his stomach, in his stomach.

"Major, can you get me a wet towel?" Carson directed before turning to Ford and Teyla. "I need my bag. It's still in the laboratory."

"We'll get it, Doc." The pair hurried from the room.

Carson took the cold towel from the major and draped it around the scientist's neck, using a corner to wipe the overheated sweaty brow. "Tell me what's wrong, Rodney."

"Started as a headache this afternoon," he said quietly, "but by the time I got back to the room, I couldn't keep anything down."

"What did you eat today?"

Before he could answer, Rodney felt his insides rebel and he lurched once more over the commode. Strong hands gripped his sides, keeping him from falling in face first. With Carson still at his side, his foggy mind told him it must be Sheppard holding him tight. "God make it end," he pleaded, darkness enveloping him as he sank to the floor in exhaustion.

"Let's get him to a bed!" Carson barked, helping the major carry the limp scientist towards one of the bedrooms.

Stripping off McKay's sweaty shirt, both men stopped to stare at the strange rash covering his upper body.

"What the bloody hell is that?"

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

A/N Sorry for the delay. I've been working double hours and am a bit behind. Thanks for all of the encouraging notes. They really help!

Chapter 3

Carson studied Rodney's grey complexion from his position on the edge of the bed while taking the man's pulse, shifting slightly to move away from Sheppard's warm breath hitting the back of his neck. "Major, would you mind giving me a little room?" he asked, without a backward glance, gently resting McKay's hand beneath the covers and leaning forward to check the quiet scientist's temperature.

"Sorry," the dark haired man mumbled, stepping around to the other side of his friend. "What do you think that is? What's wrong with him?"

"I'm not sure. He appeared fine when we met this afternoon. But now his temperature's elevated, pulse is rapid, he's vomiting, and this, this…rash. Maybe he ate something, or had an exposure to something he's reacting to, or possibly this started on Atlantis before he arrived. Could be viral, I don't know. I want to take him back to my infirmary to run some tests and do a complete blood work up."

"Great…needles," the man in question muttered, swallowing a couple of times as he tried to get the vile taste of vomit out of his mouth. It was the strong grip of the Major on his left arm that prompted him to crack his heavy eyelids and lazily glance back and forth between the two concerned faces hovering beside him.

Sheppard's tight smile tried to deflect his worry, "Hey, how you feelin'?"

"Actually," he shifted and took stock of his physical symptoms, then shrugged when he didn't feel another wave threaten his insides, and hesitantly pushed himself up to a sitting position with help from Beckett and Sheppard, "better, now that I, uh..." his hand waved in front of his chest.

"Tossed your cookies? Blew chunks? Worshipped at the porcelain god?" The major teased with a small grin, relieved to see the Canadian looking more alert.

McKay rolled his eyes in disgust and then turned to take a sip of water from the glass Carson was holding in front of him. Feeling the cool liquid slide down his sore throat, he nodded his thanks.

Setting the glass on the side table, the Scot examined his patient closely, "Rodney, when did you first start feeling poorly?"

"I woke up with a twinge of a headache, figured it was from lack of sleep."

Carson had Rodney lean forward so he could check his back for more of the rash. "You didn't sleep well last night?" Not finding that it had spread, he gently pushed his friend back to lean against the pillow.

The scientist stuck out his lower jaw and shook his head, "No more than the usual. I finished my notes around 1:30 and went to bed. I woke up around 5 to find the temperature controls because the room felt stuffy."

"You were hot?"

"It just felt close in here; the whole no windows thing." He glanced around the room, "It's like trying to sleep in a tomb."

The physician rested his hand on Rodney's brow again, noticing the scientist felt cooler to the touch and his appearance was no longer flushed. The sound of voices from the other part of the suite had the three look to the door.

Teyla was the first to enter followed by Havis and Ford. She quickly handed Dr. Beckett the duffle before taking up a position beside the Major. When McKay's sharp gaze caught hers, she smiled; relieved to see him looking much better than when they had left.

The room remained silent for the next few moments while Carson pulled out several instruments from his med pack. Once completed with his examination, he looked puzzled as he returned the items, "Do you still have a headache? Feel any more nausea?"

"No and no."

"Well, it appears your temperature has almost returned to normal, blood pressure's fine, and your digestive track has quieted. I still don't like the rash. What did you eat today? Did you try anything of the Krahn's?"

Rodney glanced towards his chest in surprise, shocked at noticing the colorful blotches for the first time. "What's that?" he gasped, lifting the blanket to look towards his stomach, before covering himself up from the others prying eyes.

"Calm down, lad. It looks like you came in contact with something that disagreed with you." Carson turned to face the silent Krahn's physician, "Have you seen anything like this before?"

Havis stepped closer to inspect Rodney's chest, reaching out to touch the scientist's forehead with his purplish fingertips. Instantly, his hand changed to a pale green and he withdrew it quickly. With more hesitancy, he reached out towards the rash and let his fingertips brush over the discoloration, watching in concern as the color on Rodney's chest turned pale green. "Where have you been, Dr. McKay?" he asked.

"I was in the lab yesterday and today, until Master Tenbrook took me on a tour of the facilities."

"Where did she take you?"

Rodney's telltale swallow of fear revealed his increasing anxiety level. His eyes darted around the group before resting on Beckett's, "What's wrong?"

"We're trying to figure that out, lad." He repeated Havis' question, "Where did she take ya?"

"We went to the power station, engineering control, um, walked forever in the tunnels discussing the gates, but I got a little claustrophobic, so we decided to return."

"Gates…?" Sheppard started to question, taking a seat beside McKay, but was cut off by Havis.

"You were under one of the energy lakes, Doctor?"

The scientist nodded.

"For how long?"

"Two...three hours."

This time it was Havis who swallowed in trepidation. "I'm sorry, Doctor McKay, but you must go immediately back to Atlantis."

"Why?" Sheppard demanded, jumping to his feet.

"What is it, Havis?" Carson quickly leaned forward, placing his hand on Rodney's shoulder to keep him from panicking.

Havis' color changed to dark orange. "If I am correct, I believe that Dr. McKay has some how come in contact with the original ancient plague."

"Oh, god, I'm a dead man," Rodney wheezed, leaning forward, only to find himself by stopped by Sheppard's firm grip on his arm.

"That's it. Take it easy," the major grunted, carefully pulling McKay to his feet. He grabbed a clean shirt and passed it to his frightened friend, then glanced to the rest of the team, "Gather your gear as fast as you can and we'll meet at the gate. You've got five minutes."

Carson tossed his kit in his duffle before hastily thrusting Rodney's belongings together. "We'll need to inform Dr. Weir of full bio-hazard precautions and be escorted to directly to the quarantined section of the infirmary."

"We'll tell her when we get to the gate, Doc." The major slung his pack over his shoulder before grasping McKay by the arm, giving him a brief shake. "You're gonna be okay once we get back. None of the doom and dying crap, understood?"

Rodney took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Got it."

It was clear by the way that Sheppard continued to grip McKay's arm that he was ready to be there for the scientist, no matter what. Shooting Carson an inquiring glance and receiving the physician's nod, he led the way back to the gate.

The halls were lined with Krahn citizen, varying in a multitude of colors of concern, as the wildfire news spread that one of the strangers might possibly be infected with the plague. Their murmurs quieted as the group hurried past them, only to resume once again.

Sheppard slipped his radio from his jacket, ready to call Weir once the wormhole opened after Ford typed in the gate address. The 'whoosh' burst brightly, filling the room before disappearing back into the puddle.

"Atlantis, this is Sheppard."

Grodin's voice returned over the radio, "_Go ahead, Major_."

"Is Dr. Weir nearby?"

"_Major_?" Elizabeth replied.

"Elizabeth, we have a medical emergency exposure to an unknown virus times five. We need biohazard and quarantine precautions."

There was a brief pause as they each imagined her organizing the needed response teams. _"We're ready for your signal, Major_."

He turned to Ford, giving him the okay to type in their code on the GDO. "Ready on your end, Doc?"

Silence.

"Elizabeth?" he called, before turning to McKay and Beckett, seeing both men with raised brows, wondering what the hold up was.

"_Major_?" Zelenka's accent cut through the stillness.

"Dr. Z, what's going on?"

"_I'm sorry Major, but for some reason, lockdown protocol has overridden the shield control and will not allow your code to clear on the system. The shield has activated and will not permit you to return."_

"Well, try again! We got here just fine and we need to come back now!"

Silence emanated once more as the team stood in front of the gate, all bathed in its reflective light, restlessly shifting their packs in anticipation of leaving.

"_Major_?" Elizabeth's voice crackled over their radios.

"What's happening on your end, Doc?"

"_Dr. Zelenka and Grodin are trying to override the lockdown sequence. It appears that there is some sort of block preventing anyone from your address coming through the gate_."

Rodney slipped out of Beckett's grasp to sit on the floor with a weary thump. "It's to stop the plague from spreading," he snapped tiredly, running his hand over his disheveled hair.

"What are you talking about?" Sheppard wasn't in the mood for any of McKay's doom crap.

"The builders, when they helped the Krahns set up the underground cities, they knew anyone leaving after the release would carry the plague. Think about it Major, it could kill anyone on the other side. We're effectively stuck here."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

He always thought eternity was just a historical reference time line; something to judge the distance between the beginning and the end. Never had it occurred to him that eternity could be counted in minutes or hours.

For it had been two hours since their discovery that they couldn't return to Atlantis. Two hours in which they'd set up a makeshift lab, delivered via a malp, from equipment that Atlantis couldn't spare, but did. Two hours that included blood tests and examinations. Two hours of staring into microscopes, searching for an answer to a question he still didn't understand. They were waiting for him to pull a rabbit from the hat and it had only been two hours.

"Carson?"

The Scot looked up to find Rodney staring at him from the other side of lab table. Dark circles were forming under the scientist's eyes and his usual quick step demeanor had slowed considerably as he journeyed back and forth from the gate to the labs, trying one idea after another that would allow them to go home. So far, his efforts were fruitless.

Making his way around the table, Carson was surprised when his friend did the same, keeping distance between the two. "Rodney? How are you feeling, lad?"

"I'm fine."

The Scot stopped moving, eyeing the scientist who warily stood on the other side, staring back at him. "Then why are you here? Do you need to lie down?"

"The major," he huffed, running his hands over his face.

"What about the major, Rodney?"

"He threatened to shoot me if I didn't come here for a check up. So," with arms spread out, he glared, "I'm here."

Carson turned his gaze to the floor and coughed, trying to disguise his brief smile, remembering Havis' confused expression when he'd come earlier with equipment of his own. He'd questioned the Atlantis physician as to why Major Sheppard and Doctor McKay were continually quarreling with one another. When Carson informed him that was normal for the pair, the man's appearance shifted to a pale yellow, fading even more as voices once again erupted from out in the hallway.

Looking back up, he caught McKay's cautious distrusting gaze and took another step around the table; only to have the scientist repeat his movement away. "Damnit, Rodney, stand still. I'm not in the mood to chase you; I've got too much bloody work to do to put up with your foolish games."

It was like watching the air deflate from a balloon. The scientist dropped to the stool Carson had vacated moments before and leaned forward to rest his head over his folded arms. It was easy now to see the visible shaking in his hunched shoulders and Carson could feel the heat of the fever once more as he pressed his hand to his friends back.

"Rodney," he encouraged gently, "the major's right. Let me examine you."

The bowed head rocked back and forth across the arms. "I can't be sick, there's too much work I need to do to get us back."

"I know, lad, but give me just a couple minutes to check you out. Once I'm done, I'll see about getting you out of my hair."

The head stopped rocking and lifted to meet the physician's concerned gaze. Rodney's features were pinched and haunting; his inquisitive burning blue gaze was now a hidden shadow behind pain filled, clenched eyelids. "Are any of the others sick?" he questioned, following Carson as the he was guided to a cot.

"No. I'm not certain why, but," Carson sighed, "let's hope maybe it was just you who came in contact with the source of the infection, and not the others. If I can get your system to stabilize, possibly stop the viral load from metastasizing in your cells, I may be able to find the key to reversing the effects."

Rodney paled visibly as he sank on the cot, clutching his arms about his middle and taking shaky deep breaths.

"Do you feel like you're about to be sick again, lad?"

"No, it's just…." He stopped, holding his breath as a wave of dizziness flooded over him.

Carson gripped the scientist's shoulders and pushed him carefully to lie down. "I can't help you, Rodney, if you don't tell me what's happening."

"Typhoid Mary," he mumbled, his heavy lids remained closed.

"Rodney, listen to me. You are not Typhoid Mary. She didn't even know she was sick when she was spreading the disease." Carson was angry at the situation: clenching his teeth, he set about examining his friend, searching for some sort of answer to ease the discomfort. "I know I've asked you several times earlier but you've yet to give me a straight answer, what did you eat today?"

"MRE for breakfast."

"Anything else?" When McKay slowly shook his head 'no', Carson swore silently. "Bloody hell, Rodney, you need to eat," he chastised under his breath as he grabbed a glucose monitor and test strip. At least this was one problem he could solve. With an IV attached and Rodney dropping off into an exhausted sleep, he went about a more thorough examination, drawing several vials of blood and tissue samples before returning to his lab table.

Placing a drop of blood on a slide, he slipped it under the microscope and peered through the eyepiece. "Bloody hell," he mumbled his favorite phrase once more, drawing back to stare at the ceiling.

"How is he, Doc?" The major's quiet question from the doorway broke the stillness of the room.

The physician's stare slipped from the ceiling to meet Sheppard's inquiring gaze. He opened his mouth to answer but caught himself and stopped, gesturing towards the equipment on the table in front of him. "I honestly don't know what to do, John. This is something I've never seen before."

Sheppard stepped over to the table and peered down into the microscope; his brows scrunched tightly together as he tried to understand what he was seeing. "Is that his blood?"

"Aye."

He looked up worriedly to meet the Scot's eyes, "That's not normal. Even I can tell that's not normal."

Carson shook his head and leaned back over to take another look. "I've never seen anything like that in my life."

"I don't understand. From everything we've heard and seen the Krahns didn't get sick. Yeah they're more colorful than a box of kids crayons, but they're not… they didn't…" he stopped to look over Rodney's still form and then back to Carson, searching the Scot's face for answers. Not finding any, he went and sat beside his friend, his hand straying over but not touching Rodney's.

"It's all right, Major. You can touch him. I don't believe he's contagious." When Sheppard didn't move, Carson walked over and placed his own hand over Rodney's heated brow and frowned. "I've been with him off and on since we found him in the suite and I haven't changed." He handed the major a towel and pointed to a small basin of water, "Keep the cloth damp and lay it over his forehead. It should make him feel a wee bit more comfortable."

The room returned to its quiet state with Carson once more leaning over the scope while Sheppard bathed McKay's sweaty forehead with cool water.

"Doctor Beckett," Havis called out as he hurried into the room, carrying Teyla in his arms. Connor was right behind them.

Carson jumped up, directing them to another empty cot. "What happened?"

"We were in the tunnels," Connor quickly answered. "She asked me to take her where I took Dr. McKay earlier. We had made as far as the lake when she asked to return, stating that she didn't feel well. We had almost reached the top of the stairs when she collapsed."

"Did she say what was wrong?"

"No, she just fell. Fortunately, I was able to find Havis nearby and we brought her here."

Carson leaned over the Athosian, checking her temperature, "Teyla, lass, can you tell me how you're feeling?"

She shivered slightly, her dark brown eyes squinting to meet the physician's gaze. "Headache," she whispered before her face paled and she leaned quickly over the side of the cot, gagging as her lunch made an impromptu return.

Holding her hair out of the way, Beckett nodded when Sheppard placed the bowl he'd had earlier with the cool water under her, catching most of the mess. "Get me a glass of water and another towel," he directed to the major while easing Teyla back onto the cot.

Handing Carson the supplies he'd requested, John the glanced over to McKay and then back to the Krahns. Tapping his radio, he paged Ford, his call instantly answered.

"_Yes, Major_."

"Contact Atlantis and have them send over a half dozen biohazard suits, a decontamination unit, and…" he glanced back to Carson.

"Dr. Kavanagh," the Scot replied, shaking his head.

"…and Kavanagh," Sheppard completed.

"_Kavanagh, sir_?"

"You heard me, Lieutenant."

"_Yes, sir_," Ford snapped before ending the connection.

Sheppard stared at McKay and Teyla's unconscious bodies before meeting Beckett's resigned face. "You better be right, Doc, cause being stuck here with him is the last thing any of us would ever want."

TBC

A/N Ugh! This is gonna be fun...


	5. Chapter 5

A/N Thanks for the feedback! It helps keep the motivation going!

Chapter 5

"_Major, incoming wormhole from Atlantis_."

Ford's page to the makeshift infirmary from his position near the gate brought Sheppard out of his internal pondering as to how to make their situation right. Pulling himself to his feet from an uncomfortable chair situated next to McKay's bed, he passed quietly out of the room, careful not to wake the sleeping patients. "I'm on my way," he signaled back once he made it to the hallway.

He shoved up his wrinkled jacket cuff to check his watch, noticing it had been a couple of hours since they'd initially contacted Weir with their request. He could only imagine the fuss Kavanagh had caused when he was told he needed to come over to plague central. Honestly, he was surprised they had been able to convince the egotistical self centered scientist to join the away team, especially under the dire circumstances. But then again, Dr. Z had been more than cooperative and willing in helping them; he could only dream of what the imaginative Czech had come up with in motivating his greatest nemesis to enter the gate. At that thought, a hint of a smile graced the major's face for the first time since they'd found Rodney earlier in the suite.

The Krahn's gateroom was a large open-aire arena encircled with spiraling staircases and jutting balconies so that incoming and departing travelers from the other city could be seen by all. There was no need for security from offworlders because the external system had been inactive for centuries. But, now with the flurry of visitors arriving within the past few days and the rumored sickness returning to haunt them, several individuals stood watching expectantly, waiting to see what was to arrive this time from the city of the builders. All eyes were pinned on Sheppard's back as he strode over to Ford's side.

"Where is he?" The major questioned, nodding towards the reflective puddle of the gate.

"No sign of him yet, sir," the young lieutenant answered with a noncommittal shrug. "Want me to page Atlantis?"

Checking his watch again, Sheppard scowled, his eyes tightening as he tried to ignore the curious gazes directed their way. "How long has the gate been open?"

"Fifteen minutes on our end."

"Okay, that's it." Irritably he plucked the lieutenant's radio from his hand, "Atlantis, what's taking so damn long?"

"_Major Sheppard, we are having a slight problem with…"_ Weir started to say but was drowned out by two voices shouting loudly in the background.

"_What if you **can't** fix it_?" Clearly Dr. Kavanagh's sniveling whine, they recognized the sound of him tormenting some innocent individual.

"_We've been over this hundred times! You help Dr. Beckett interface computer systems, I fix gate on this side!_" Ah, the one and only Dr. Z giving it back with both barrels.

"_I've changed my mind. I can't do it. You can't make me go there. I might not come back. What if I get sick_?"

"_You claim to be smart man, now prove it. Save Dr. McKay. Remember our talk; you make him in your debt_."

"_No! I can't do it_!" The sound of an ensuing scuffle could be heard over the radio.

"_Gentlemen, stop it_!" Weir snapped before her voice called out for Sergeant Bates.

Sheppard had had enough. Furious at listening to the struggle on the other side and not being able to do anything about it, he snapped. "Kavanagh, if you don't get your ass through that gate on the double, when I get back I will personally shave your head with a blunt razor and give your hair to the Athosians to weave a mud mat!"

A brief moment of silence emanated from the radio before a startled yelp could be heard, followed by an individual dressed in one of Atlantis' blue hazmat suits tumbling through the event horizon, landing on his knees to look up at one highly agitated Air Force Major.

"They pushed me!" Kavanagh complained bitterly, looking back over his shoulder to stare at the gate in disbelief. He had only a second to move before another heavily laden malp slipped through the horizon, coming to a stop where he had landed previously.

"_Major? Dr. Kavanagh tripped entering the gate. Did he arrive safely_?" Elizabeth's voice dryly asked.

Sheppard caught Ford's smirk at the tripped comment and winked at him from behind Kavanagh's back, "Yeah, doc, he made quite an entrance."

"_Alright then, keep us posted. If you need anything else, let us know. Other than that, we'll call back at the top of every hour for updates. Weir out_."

Handing the radio back to Ford, Sheppard began pulling crates and canvas bags off the malp. "Lieutenant, give Dr. K a hand so we can get this gear up to Beckett."

"Major Sheppard!" Havis' alarmed voice echoed throughout the chamber from above, "Dr. Beckett said he needs you."

Without a backward glance to the others, the major hastily grabbed a pair of heavy packs off the floor and tossed one over each shoulder, before charging up the staircase. Taking the steps two at a time, his chest was heaving with exertion by the time he made it back to the infirmary. "What?" he demanded breathlessly, spying Carson leaning over Rodney, "What happened?"

Beckett shot him a worried glance before turning his attention back to the combative physicist he had pinned to the cot, "Give me a hand with him, lad. His fever's rising and he's been sick again. I can't keep him still long enough to get an IV started and he's becoming dehydrated."

The major swapped places with the Scot and was surprised to feel the heat radiating off his friend. Glazed pale blue eyes looked up to meet his through mere slits barely dawning any recognition. "Hey, McKay," he said softly, "Beckett will be right back with something to make you feel better." The man squinted in response before rolling to the side looking for something then jerking back up to meet the hazel eyes so intently watching him.

Rodney tugged his arm in Sheppard's firm grasp. "Let me go," he whispered his voice raspy from vomiting.

"Doc wants you to stay put." When McKay's eyes clamped shut and his face paled, Sheppard glanced to the floor looking for the empty basin in case it would be needed again. "Shhh, take it easy, Rodney. Slow deep breaths," he encouraged quietly but to no avail. The bobbing throat and repetitive swallowing signaled a losing battle for the miserable Canadian. In one smooth move, he rolled Rodney to his side with his head over the edge of the bed just in the nick of time.

Sheppard held his gagging friend in his arms as the bout of dry heaves racked the exhausted man.

Now limp and unmoving, gasping for breath, Rodney moaned when the relentless jackhammer inside his head started another round. "Shoot me," he managed to whisper. He could feel the major's hands that were holding him secure from falling off the cot, stiffen at his plea. "Never felt this bad before," he moaned.

"Well, I can see Beckett mixing up one of his magic potions for you as we speak, so it shouldn't be much longer."

Rodney licked his parched lips; what he'd give for a sip of cool water. "Wish he'd hurry up." One of John's hands moved from holding his arm to rest on his neck, kneading the tightly strained muscles. "How's Teyla?" he grunted when the major pressed to hard on his painful shoulder.

Sheppard's hand stopped a moment as his eyes drifted over to the other bed. "She's asleep, like you should be." Watching her breath slowly, he looked back down to the trembling figure leaning against his leg, knowing if they didn't do something soon, she would be just as sick. "Did I tell you Kavanagh is here?"

There was a brief hitch in McKay's breathing. "You're kidding?" he wheezed in disbelief.

"Nope, Dr. Z gave him a shove through the gate. Beckett needs his help to integrate our system with the Krahns. And speaking of your Scottish tormentor, here he comes now." Sliding sideways to give Beckett a bit more room, he stilled when the physician motioned for him to stay put.

Carson's cool hand dropped to Rodney's brow, judging the fever, before shaking his head. "I need to start an IV on you, lad. You're starting to look like you've been out in the sun a wee bit too long." Swabbing a spot on the inner arm, his experienced hands slipped the needle painlessly beneath the skin, securing it with a piece of tape. Next he adjusted the bags of fluid, injecting one port with an antibiotic. "Do you think you could try a sip of water?"

"Do I have to move?" the scientist mumbled, still propped sideways against the major.

"Nay, lad, you can stay put. I have a straw." The sweaty head nodded slightly accepting the drink Carson supplied. Taking a slow draw of the cool liquid, he choked when something loud dropped to the floor, startling him.

"Where do you want all of this, Dr. Beckett?" Kavanagh barked loudly, staring around the jumbled room looking for the man who requested him to join this doomed trip. Spotting the physician and the major situated along side one of the cots, effectively blocking its occupant, and another holding the Athosian woman, he headed in McKay's direction to get a better view. "You look like hell, Doctor. What did you do this time?"

The major stiffened, while Carson patted Rodney on the back to stop the coughing. "Are you finished unloading the malp, Kavanagh? Because if you are finished, you need to get to work on the systems and keep away from Beckett's patients…unless you want to get sick."

Rodney coughed pitifully right on cue. No matter how ill, even he couldn't resist messing with the nitwit.

Kavanagh's eyes grew huge behind the protective cover of his suit before he stomped out of the room, nearly running over Havis as he and Ford entered the room carrying a large crate between them. Setting it down gently, they made their way over to the others.

"How are you doin', Doc?" Ford asked quietly, taking in the scientist's ragged appearance.

When Rodney didn't reply, Sheppard and Beckett both looked down to discover that he'd finally nodded off. With great care, they eased him back onto the bed, the major draping the cool towel once again over the heated brow.

Sheppard hated to leave but there was little for him to do now but get in the doctor's way. Gesturing to his 2IC, he made his way to the door, "Ford, let's get the rest of the gear and find Kavanagh. The sooner we get this lab up and running, the faster we can hopefully go home."

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: A million apologies for this being so scattered in posts. Today my boss finally returned from her three week vacation and my work load has resumed a less strenuous pace. That and the fact that emergencyfan sent me a box of 12 tapes that I glazed over and watched every spare second over the past weekend. Australian TV, who knew it was so darn entertaining? Not her fault though, mine for watching them instead of typing.

And, yes, still betaed by Gaffer. Thanks!

Chapter 6

Ford and Sheppard snapped the decontamination chamber together in an intense silence, neither man commenting on the situation. It was almost as if they spoke that somehow things could possibly get worse. Of course, that would be nearly impossible with their friends struggling with some unknown illness, Beckett forced to dissect and rebuild some 11,000 year old virus that had mutated beyond recognition with equipment that was as foreign to him, as well as individuals that displayed emotion in color, and god help them all, Kavanagh. The man still hadn't taken off the suit. Just how long could he go with out having to take a leak, anyhow?

The major had caught his second watching the scientist's feet several times and finally had to ask him just what the heck he was looking for. The young man didn't bat an eyelash when he answered 'smurf socks'. It had taken everything he had not to reach out and cuff the youngster along side the back of the head for yet one more stupid name, but it did make sense. If filled with liquid, the toe of the hazmat suit would point up almost in a grinch/smurf sort of way. He and Rodney had discovered that little fact while cleaning up a lab spill that turned into an all out hose fight, complete with each seeing who could fill their gear with the most water before bursting. Of course, Elizabeth's predictable timing didn't fail her as she got more than an eyeful as McKay's suit burst at the seams, the weight of the water dragging his pants down.

Sheppard stopped to shake his head, remembering the sight of soaked boxers covered in red maple leaves resting about the Canadian's ankles. For days, all he had to do was sing the words "Oh, Canada" before humming the rest to receive murderous glares from the scientist. What he'd give right now to catch even one arched brow or egotistical snort of disapproval.

"Sir?"

He discovered Ford scrutinizing him, trying to contemplate just exactly what had his superior standing still with one hand scrunched in his hair and the other open mid air, reaching for some unseen object. "Ford?"

"You alright, sir?" The dark eyes searched for signs of a headache in his superiors face.

"Yeah." He rolled his tight shoulders and snapped his neck, taking in the completed unit standing before them. "Everything set to go?"

"Yes, sir. Once Dr. Kavanagh finishes connecting the filtration unit to the power supply, we're good."

Scrubbing his hand over the stubble from the one day growth that covered his cheeks, he nodded, "Okay then, suit up. I'll let Beckett and the others know we're ready. Once Master Connor gets here, we go and check out the tunnel." Sheppard glanced around the back of the chamber in search of Kavanagh but found the area empty. "Now, where'd he go?" Retracing his steps, he found Ford stepping into one of the hazmat suits. "Where's Kavanagh?"

"He was just there, a minute ago, sir."

"Son of a…" Sheppard glanced up the winding staircases, then around the rest of the area surrounding the far corner of the gateroom. With no sign of the missing scientist, he grabbed his radio and paged Beckett; hating to disturb the physician, but needing to check up on his teammates and see if Kavanagh was up there.

The Scot sounded tired when he returned the call, "_What can I do for you, Major_?"

"How they doin', doc?"

"_Well, I've got them both on a broad spectrum antibiotic and am pushing the fluids. Can't seem to keep them hydrated_." Carson paused to glance towards his charges. "_Rodney's having a tough go of it. Teyla's just starting_."

"Any chance you're starting to figure out what's wrong with them?"

"_Nay, lad, it's like looking for a needle in a haystack and I don't even know what the bloody haystack looks like_."

"Well, hopefully we'll be able to find some clues down in the hallway. You haven't seen Kavanagh by chance? We're waiting on him."

"_I'm sorry, major, that's my fault. I asked him to come up here a moment and see if he could get the computer working. He's about finished now. Havis came up with an idea but we couldn't get the two systems to cooperate_." His weary sigh came over the radio, "_This is one time we could really use Rodney_," he added quietly.

"I hear you, doc. Send Kavanagh down when he's done. He can meet us in the tunnels. Sheppard, out." Donning the blue hazmat suit, he stepped up beside Ford and nodded to Connor, "We're ready when you are."

SG: A

The three members from Atlantis, Master Connor, and four of her top technicians scoured the tunnels for hours; taking samples of the stone walls, checking for possible leaks from the outside environment, and running the Krahn's own hand held air analyzer. From all of the mind boggling tech speak that Sheppard heard, hegathered that increased readings of air particles showed a denser concentration of active elements the further they moved away from the city. Particles of what, left them all guessing.

Sheppard stopped to take in his crew's haggard appearance. The mere fact that Kavanagh had quit his bitching over an hour ago and was working silently, signaled just how long they'd been searching without a stop. Plus, even the major was beginning to watch the pony-tailed scientists feet: just how long could the guy go without going? "Okay, let's pack it in. I imagine Beckett's ready to come and get us and I want to check in on the others."

"I will come with you Major," Connor announced. She turned to speak with her crew, sending them further down the passageway before joining the visitors.

There was something different about the Krahns that was bothering the major, that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Silently wishing once more for McKay's gift of observation for minute detail, he waited for her to join them before proceeding back the way they had come. "Dr. K, any ideas or thoughts as to what might be happening down here?"

Looking decidedly uncomfortable, the uncharacteristically silent scientist shifted the sealed containers he was carrying before meeting the major's inquisitive gaze. "This is a bit out of my field, Major, but if I were to hypothesize, I'd suggest that whatever the contaminant is, it is emanating from the second city."

Connor studied Kavanagh before turning to Sheppard, "I must agree. I will send a team through the gate to take samples and bring them back to the lab once we return." She eyed the men in the crinkling blue suits critically, "Perhaps it would be best if you remained here and rested."

Henodded, seeing the others mimic his movement. By his nearest guesstimate, it must be close to four or five in the morning. He was hungry, worried, and exhausted. He wanted to check on McKay and Teyla and to find out what, if anything Atlantis had discovered during their absence. Maybe Dr. Z had come up with something on his end.

When they finally made their way to the end of the corridor housing the decontamination unit, they each took a turn stripping, shoving their suits in sealed bags, and showering thoroughly. Kavanagh took off like a jackrabbit towards the guest suite while the major and Ford dragged themselves up the stairs to Beckett's makeshift lab. What they saw took them both by surprise.

"McKay?" Sheppard squawked, staring at the bedraggled scientist sitting on a stool beside the doctor, his IV hanging on a makeshift pole, madly typing away on his laptop. To say the Canadian looked awful was an understatement. Dark bags had settled under his eyes, turning the usually piercing blues into an almost pale grey color, and the rash that they'd discovered on his chest earlier now covered his face.

"Close your mouth, major. That's a good way to catch flies," his friend attempted to jibe but his comment didn't hold the usual sting.

"Doc?"

Carson shook his head and blinked, finally giving up all together at pretending not to be tired and rubbed his eyes hard with both palms. "Aye, lad, I needed help and he was laying there staring at me so I put him to work."

Okay, things had to be bad if Beckett let Rodney up looking like that. "How's Teyla?"

"Whatever this is, it's affecting her differently. She doesn't appear to be forming the rash that Rodney has." Carson picked up the containers that they had brought back, studying each one closely before placing it back on the table. "These should help us isolate what ever the contagion might be. Working with the sample of the original plague that Havis has in his lab and cross referencing it with the anomalies I've found in their blood and Rodney's, along with whatever I can get from your samples; I might possibly come up with a common denominator and be able to go on from there."

Sheppard scratched his head, taking up the empty stool vacated by Beckett beside Rodney. Bumping shoulders with his friend, he nodded towards the open laptop, "What are you working on?"

"Breakdown components of the Krahn's atmosphere and water table shows an increased elevation of some sort of biogenetic compound that has become naturally forming over the years." The scientist stopped to sip from a glass of water, continuing once the cool liquid soothed the fire in his throat. "It's become a part of who they are. I think that's why they don't get sick."

"Yeah? How long you been at it?"

"Hour. Two tops." Rodney tipped sideways, whispering to Sheppard, "I'm out of my element. This is Carson's forte and I don't honestly know how much help I can give him." Glancing up to meet the major's concerned gaze, he painstakingly straightened, folding his arms in his familiar posture. "I feel like shit. I think need to lie down."

"Mind if I give you a hand?" Not waiting for an answer, the major slipped one hand under the scientist's arm, the other grabbing the IV pole, as he gently steered the trembling man back over to the cot. "Can I get you anything?"

"No," Rodney grunted, sliding down until his head hit the pillow. Through heavily lidded eyes, he watched Sheppard take up a seat on the chair beside his bed. "You know what time it is?"

The scruffy haired man glanced down at his watch, "4:35."

"Go to bed," McKay rasped, his lids closing on their own accord.

"I got to go contact Atlantis."

Rodney grunted, his hand falling over the side of the bed and tugging slightly on Sheppard's pant leg, then patting the side of the cot. "Power nap. Fifteen minutes," he mumbled before finally drifting off.

Watching the slow rise and fall of McKay's chest, Sheppard felt his own eyes grow heavy. He could use fifteen minutes. Propping his feet on the edge of the cot, he folded his arms, resting his chin to his chest. Moments later, he, too, was sound asleep.

Carson scrutinized the two men closely out of the corner of his eye. Both were clearly dead on their feet, and Rodney's ailment had exhausted what reserves the scientist may have had. Making his way silently to the bed, he reached out and felt McKay's fever returning. It seemed as though every time he'd been able to get it under control, out of the dangerously high numbers, it would spike once again when they didn't expect it.

Reaching down to the foot of the bed, he pulled the blanket free from under the major's feet, draping it across the sleeping scientist. Havis handed him a second one to drape over Sheppard.

"We are so sorry," the Krahn physician spoke quietly. "We didn't know."

"I know, and so do they." He returned to the table, stopping briefly when he spied Ford's lanky form stretched out over another cot, snoring softly. "We'll get out of this; it's just a matter of finding the answer."

Resuming their seats at the table, both physicians got back to work. There would be little rest for them tonight.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The sound of someone retching miserably pulled Sheppard abruptly awake from his restless sleep. His feet dropped to the floor with a thud as he sat up, his gaze instantly shooting over to see McKay's sweaty sleeping form. Not seeing the scientist move, he scowled and glanced around the room.

"Major Sheppard," Carson called out quietly, "I could use your help." He was holding Teyla over the side of her cot, her sides heaving as another wave of nausea struck.

Grabbing the empty bowl from under McKay's bed, he hurried over to place it near his team member. She looked downright awful, not even noticing him as he knelt in front of her. "How long has she been sick?"

"Going on thirty minutes. She's got to be about tapped out." Carson shifted, making room for Sheppard to take his place, "Can you keep her steady while I change her IV?"

"Why didn't you wake me sooner? I could have helped you."

"Major, you needed the rest and it's not like I haven't dealt with something like this before." He changed the empty saline bag to a full one before injecting an anti-emetic into the port. Bringing a cool towel over from the sink, he carefully wiped of Teyla's face and eased her back down to the bed. "There you go, lass. You should be feeling better soon."

Her fevered brown eyes slid shut, as she fell into a deep exhausted sleep.

Carson watched her a moment and then made his way over to check on Rodney. Satisfied that both his patients were stable at the moment, he returned to his stool and dropped his head into his hands. "I've got more bad news, Major."

Sheppard took up Havis' empty stool at the table, "What now? Are you getting sick?"

"Nay, lad, not me. But apparently two of Master Tenbrook's team members that accompanied you earlier are. Havis left over an hour ago to see to them."

"Has he gotten back to you on their condition?"

"No. I imagine he has his hands full."

John stood up and began to pace the room, running his hands through his unruly hair. "I don't know what to do," he confessed in frustration. He opened his mouth to say more but the words wouldn't come.

"Major. John, there may be nothing you can do. This may be one time when we won't find the answer."

"That's not acceptable!" Sheppard snapped, his eyes instantly looking to his friends to see if he had awoken them, then spying Ford's empty cot. "Where's the lieutenant?"

"I sent him to check in on Dr. Kavanagh."

Sheppard blinked then scrunched his face in disgust, "Oh, god, I forgot about him."

"He's fine, lad," Beckett replied, his concern growing as he watched the major's pacing resume. "Sleeping rather loudly last I heard."

The major stopped to check his watch, his shoulders sagging when he noticed the time. "Why didn't you wake me? It's 8:30 in the morning! I've been asleep for four hours."

"You needed the rest. If you didn't sleep, I was about to sedate you."

Piercing hazel eyes fixed on the physician, "Have you slept?"

"A nap here and there."

"Right." Stalking out the door, Sheppard called over his shoulder, "I have to contact Atlantis. Call if you need me." And then he was gone.

SG: A

Weir instantly returned his hail, _"Major, we were getting worried. How is your situation?"_

"Not too good. Rodney and Teyla are both sick and now the Krahns are becoming ill."

He heard her sigh before she responded. "_We might have some better news on our end. Dr. Zelenka has discovered that the signal to stop the gate from opening here emanates from your planet. It isn't us, John."_

"Well that's great, Doc. Now if I only had someone here who could crack the code. Like I said, McKay's out of it and I'm not about to turn it over to Kavanagh. And even if we could release it, we're still carrying some unknown bug. We can't come back."

"_John, Radek has offered to come through and help as well as Doctors Turner and Kasbaugm. This is their specialty. I wouldn't send them if I thought they were going to die_."

"No, we already have two scientists. If we don't make it back, you'll need Zelenka. I don't want him coming over."

"_I understand, but what about Turner or Kasbaugm? They're disease specialists. If even one joined your team, he could be an asset to Beckett. John, he can't solve this on his own. If I know him, I imagine he didn't sleep last night, did he?"_

Sheppard sank down on the gate steps and stared out across the room. The spectators from the day before were gone, hiding from the unseen illness, leaving him alone in the cavernous ghostlike portion of the city. They had done this, he and his team. For some unknown reason, because of them, the inhabitants might all die. Sure, they survived the wraith, but what did that matter now?

"_John, are you still there?"_

He glanced at his radio, turning it slowly in his hands before answering, "Is Zelenka nearby?"

"_I'm here, major."_

"Do you think you could talk Kavanagh through how to fix the gate?"

This time the silence was on the other side of the radio. "_Yes_," the Czech replied reluctantly.

"Good. Beckett does need help, Elizabeth. As long as they know what they're getting in to, send one of the doctors. We're also going to need some more equipment if we have to take the gate apart."

"_Don't worry about that, Major. I send what you need."_

"Thanks Z. Sheppard out."

SG: A

Thirty minutes later the gate whooshed open, admitting one heavily laden Dr. Carl Turner.

Sheppard took one of the bags from the scientist and shrugged, "Welcome to Fantasy Island, doc. Or should I call it Hotel California? "

The tall dark-skinned doctor smiled, looking over his shoulder as the gate powered down. "Major Sheppard. I must admit, I always wondered what it would be like to be on one of your teams."

"Well, you dived in head first on this one. Ready to get to work?"

Turner shifted his bags and glanced up the long staircase, "Lead the way."

TBC

A/N: Way short chapter, I know! More to come over the weekend. Now, I must go to work!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The sound of two men arguing out in the hall made Sheppard curious and he walked quietly over to the entranceway. By the way things were going, Beckett was on the losing end of the battle and in a few moments would have to admit defeat.

"Carl, when exactly was the last time you practiced general medicine of any sort?"

"Carson, that's not the issue. I'm here to assist you in finding the answer to Krahn's problem and to cure our teammates. I can't do that if you won't rest."

"I don't need you to tell me what to do, laddie."

"And I don't need you to wear yourself to the point of exhaustion. All I'm saying is you need at least four hours sleep. I'd prefer eight to ten but I realize the situation at hand doesn't allow us that luxury."

"I don't have time…"

"Doctor, if you don't rest, I'll sedate your ass."

"You and what army?"

A loud sigh emanated from the tension filled void. "Is that the way you want this to go down, Carson? I always thought you and Sheppard's team were tight. Because of your reluctance to take a break, your exhaustion may create more of a hindrance than a help. It's a rest, that's all. It's not a declaration of inability to solve this problem. You'll think better. You know I'm right."

The voices grew quiet and the major hustled back over to Rodney's side, not wanting to get caught eavesdropping. Moments later the two physicians returned to the room, neither man's face giving away any sign of their argument.

Beckett made his way over to the major and looked down at Rodney, then to Teyla. He chewed his lower lip, clearly battling his inner most thoughts, before a look of resignation finally settled over his face. His shoulders drooped as he sat on the empty cot across from the sleeping scientist. "Major, Dr. Turner needs you to assist him while I get some rest. If you or anyone else gets sick, I insist that you wake me immediately."

Sheppard nodded, looking up to catch Turner roll his eyes and mouth 'thank god' to the ceiling. "Don't worry doc, I'll keep him in line for you."

The weary Scot smiled briefly before tipping sideways onto the cot, his eyes fixed on Rodney. "I hate this," he mumbled to himself before his eyes drifted shut. Within moments his tired body succumbed to sleep.

"You go, Doc," Sheppard smirked up to Turner with a grin. "I never saw anyone give it to Beckett."

"And you still haven't, major. Exhaustion makes a person more compliant. Once he's back to his full bagpipe-blowin' glory, I'd run for the hills before telling him off."

Walking over to the lab table, Turner stared down at Carson's notes and then gazed into the microscope. He shuffled through various slides, his intelligent eyes taking in every detail. Nodding in approval at what had been accomplished so far, he looked up to meet Sheppard's curious gaze. "I need you to get me some samples from the other city."

"Okay…"

The tall doctor sat down on one of the stools and motioned for the major to take the other. "From what Carson sent back to Atlantis for us to study, along with his most recent observations, it appears that whatever is happening, the origin point is not from this city. The illness has occurred after contact in the underground tunnels that connect the two. And when I studied the layout of their systems, that portion of tunnel contains air that is not circulated by this side. Also, the two Krahn team members to get sick, were the individuals that Master Connor sent through the gate to collect the first set of samples."

An odd sense of relief washed over the major. "So, what you're saying is, we didn't cause this?"

"Oh, absolutely not. Dr. Kasbaugm and I came up with several hypotheses as to what may be causing this and the one we kept coming back to is, somehow the other city has been in recent contact with the atmosphere. The metamorphosis in the Krahns that has safely allowed them to evolve over thousands of years to their current state isn't completely stable. Once reintroduced to the 'plague',it biogenetically stirs up their DNA. It makes them suceptible."

"Well, what about Rodney and Teyla?"

"They appear to have come in contact with the original virus."

Rubbing the day old growth across his face, Sheppard grunted as reality of their situation kicked in, "So, actually, you need to find two cures? One for us, and one for them?"

"Yes."

"Okay, doc, tell me what I need to do."

SG: A

Once again dressed in a blue hazmat suit, Sheppard stood in front of the large glowing puddle. Connor and two more of her team accompanied him. This time, they also were suited up, more cautious as to what to expect from the other city.

Ford joined his commander and handed over the case with the culture dishes, "You ready, sir?"

"Yeah. Help Kavanagh set up the decon unit around the gate once we signal our return." He gripped the radio Connor had given him earlier. "If, for any reason Beckett or Turner needs me while I'm gone, don't hesitate to contact me." The unspoken request to be updated on his sick teammates was a given.

"Yes, sir. Good luck."

"Thanks, lieutenant." Sheppard glanced over to the waiting scientists, "Ready?"

The orangish-red Krahns nodded then stepped through the gate, Sheppard right behind them.

SG: A

The second city appeared abandoned as they emerged from the gate. Light filtered down from above the spiraled staircase, casting long shadows across the floor.

"Kinda spooky," Sheppard said out loud, walking slowly off the platform. He opened the case Ford had given him and removed a culture dish. Taking off the sealed lid, he scratched the waxy surface with a stylus, before placing both items back into a sealed bag, labeling it with the location from which it had been taken. Connor's team did the same.

"Where is everyone?" he asked her.

"When I contacted Master Linton, to inform him that we were coming, he said that the majority of the inhabitants had confined themselves to their personal homes. The city is virtually at our disposal. I will begin with his laboratory and check the upper levels." She gestured to the young scientist standing at her side, "This is Marlton, my head of genetic studies. He will accompany you through the lower levels, Major, while Brae goes with me."

"Okay, I'm ready to get this done. You too, Marlton?"

The scientist nodded, "Yes, Major."

"Good." Sheppard switched on his radio, paging the other side of the gate, "Ford, can you hear me alright?"

"_Affirmative, sir."_

"We're setting out. I'll call back in exactly one hour unless something else comes up."

"_One hour sir. Dr. K and I are moving the decon unit now_."

"Good. Sheppard out." One final glance up the empty staircase, and he turned to Marlton, "Let's get this show on the road."

SG: A

Marlton patiently guided Sheppard through the lower levels, stopping to take samples of the different environments at set intervals. To the major's relief, the young scientist also revealed that he had dry sense of humor that could almost rival McKay's. And when the major nicknamed him 'Marty', he only grinned behind the mask, his color changing briefly to the blue friendship hue.

They had made it to the tunnel level without complications when they ran across the first citizen of the city. The bedraggled figure looked ill and it was clear from the ground in front of him that his lunch had been his first casualty.

"Sir, can we help get you to the infirmary?"

The splotchy figure looked up, his eyes widening in horror at the sight of the two blue clad individuals standing before him. Stumbling back in fear, he reached out to shove them away when they reached out to give him a hand up from the floor. His hand connected with Sheppard's air hose, ripping it free from the back of his suit.

Marlton instantly dropped the sick man, desperately trying to reattach the hose as the major stood holding his breath. He knew the actions were futile, that he'd been exposed. Pushing Marty's hands away, he shook his head, "Let's get this man back to Connor and then return to Beckett's lab."

"Major…" Marty started to say but was stopped when Sheppard held up his hand.

"Let's just go back. I need to notify the others." They half carried, half dragged the sick Krahn between them, making their way slowly down the long hallway and then up the winding staircase. Reaching the top, Sheppard let Marty take the sick man to their infirmary while he called Ford.

"_Yes, Major," _his second quickly replied.

"We're ready to come back, so once we send the code and the gate opens, set up the rest of the decon unit."

"_We're ready, sir_."

"And, Ford?"

"_Yes, sir?_

Sheppard paused a moment, staring down at the empty gate. This really sucked. "Let Beckett and Turner know I've been exposed."

TBC

A/N: Thanks for all of your great reviews! Lovin' every one of them!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Ford, Kavanagh, and Beckett, along with several Krahn science members, quickly wrapped the front of the open gate in the heavy-duty plastic of the decontamination unit. This way, when the members of the away team arrived from the other site, they would step directly into the system, not chancing any further exposure to the rest of the city.

Brae, Connor's assistant was the first through. She made quick work of getting scrubbed so that the next member could make their way back. Stepping out of the unit wearing a clean tunic, she handed over her case, now enclosed in protective plastic, to one of the other waiting scientists.

Connor was next. Again, stepping from the chamber she carried her case, along with one other. The sound of the gate disengaging behind her caused gasps from the waiting Atlantis team as well as members of her own.

"Master Tenbrook," Carson enquired, looking slightly agitated, "where's the Major and your other scientist?"

Her cool green eyes met his, not betraying any emotion, "They decided to remain in the other city, to see if they could find where the plague was entering the facility."

"Oh, he damn well better not have!" Without any warning, he snatched the Krahn's communication device from Ford's pocket and thumbed the call button. "Major Sheppard, I know you can hear me, and unless you want to see me walking through that gate, you'd better answer me."

"_Hey, doc_," the major's voice sounded calm.

"Major, I need you to come back. I can't monitor you from over here."

"_Well, here's the thing. We both know I have a few hours before this could get nasty. Why should I sit around and wait when I can use that time to do a little more poking around on this _side_? I'm already exposed, what else could possibly happen?"_

Carson was now pacing in frustration around the backside of the gate, staring at the empty circle. "Oh, don't even start with me, lad."

"_Doc, we need to know what's going on if we want to make it home. There's no one else left to do this. You and Turner need to find the cure, Kavanagh and Ford have to work with Zelenka to get the gate ready, and Teyla and Rodney are of little help. I'm the only one left and I want to do this while I still can."_ There was a long pause before his voice broke the silence, "_Just keep me updated, okay?"_

"That goes both ways, John. The minute you begin to feel poorly, I want you to return."

"_Understood. Remember, I've got Marty here to help me if things get bad. Sheppard out_."

If the room had been quiet before, the silence was now deafening around the gate as each person contemplated what to do next.

"I knew I was going to die here," Kavanagh groaned. "I want to contact Atlantis and file a formal complaint. I was forced to come here against my will. Weir made me," he whined, totally oblivious to the irritated stares directed at him.

Ford took a step in the scientist's direction, only to be beaten by Beckett. "Laddie, I don't need to hear another peep out of you unless you want to find yourself on the receiving end of a very long, very painful, battery of tests. I'm going to need to try the antidote on someone, and right now, you're looking to be my first choice."

The physicists face reddened as he started to splutter, "You can't…"

"Yes, I can. As of this moment, I'm the highest ranking Atlantis member here and what I say goes. If you have a problem with that, take it up with Dr. Weir _when _we get back."

SG: A

Master Tenbrook had pulled Marlton aside prior to stepping through the gate. She knew that the major would insist on being left behind, for she herself had also considered staying, but realized that her expertise would be needed by the others if they were going to solve this situation. So, instead, she gave the young geneticist the option of remaining, to keep an eye on their now exposed visitor, and to make sure that if anything were to happen, if the illness somehow overcame him, that Marlton would bring him back.

Marlton had agreed instantly and now found himself carefully watching Major Sheppard for any sign of illness as they made their way back down to the tunnels to complete their earlier inspection. It wasn't easy to do, for they both continued to wear the hazmat suits that concealed everything but their faces. But Connor had been adamant, that if they stayed behind, exposed or not, the suits stayed on. That perhaps the brief exposure from the undone air hose was minimalized by the fact that he'd remained covered and the hose had been quickly attached.

It took the two men close to an hour to inspect the ancient sealed exits to the tunnels. None showed any sign of recent tampering or wear to the 11,000 year old doors.

Disgruntled, Sheppard sat on the bottom step of the staircase and stared up the several stories of winding steps that disappeared above him. He really didn't want to have to climb up those. Closing his eyes to take a brief breather, he could feel the beginnings of a headache pulling at the back of his neck. Not sure if it was from the lack of sleep of from coming in contact with the virus, he tried to snap his neck to relieve the tension. The last thing he needed was to get sick and have Marty end up tossing him over his colorful shoulder, carrying him back to one irritated Scottish doctor.

"Major Sheppard?"

Speak of the devil, he quietly thought to himself. He didn't open his eyes. "Yeah Marty."

"Perhaps it is time for us to check the upper lever accesses." The Krahn's suit crinkled as he shifted uncomfortably in the confining outfit.

"Yeah, I know. I was just taking a break." Opening one eye, the major stared back up to the bazillion steps above him and tried to ignore the pounding that increased within his skull, he really didn't want to have to climb those. "Exactly how far up do we have to go?"

Marty smiled, glancing up to were the other man was looking, "Why, the very top."

With a groan, the major pulled himself up to his feet. "Yeah, I figured you'd say that," he mumbled, grabbing the railing to begin the ascent.

"Major?"

"Hmmm?"

"I was going to take the lift. Would you care to join me or shall I meet you at the top?" Marty felt a brief sense of satisfaction when the clearly relieved hazel eyes met his own. "You didn't think we were going to walk, did you?" he teased lightly.

"Well, it did cross my mind." Stepping back down from the first step, he stopped as the hallway did a brief dizzying loop. 'Not now,' he chided himself mentally, closing his eyes until it passed. A firm grip on his arm let him know Marty didn't miss a thing.

"Come, Major, the lift is this way."

SG: A

He stood in the small lift, leaning against the shiny polished sides that he could only imagine felt cool to the touch. Longing to take off the confining hood of his suit and rest his head against the surface, Sheppard tried to take his mind off his situation by watching the flashing symbols beside the door. "Just how far is it to the top?"

"Thirty-five levels. We are almost there." Just as Marty had said, they came to a smooth stop and were deposited on the top floor that looked very similar to the one they had just left.

Sheppard glanced about the empty hallway and shook his head. "I'm still having a hard time with the fact that there are a million people in this city and I don't see a soul."

"It took us centuries to adapt to living within the mountains, but with the threat of the wraith ever looming, we came to the realization that we must follow certain rules if we wanted to survive. I have noticed several individuals watching us as we searched the lower levels and I imagine there will be a few more before we are finished."

"I haven't seen a soul."

"And you won't. Remember, we are hiding from the Wraith. We learned to disappear a long time ago."

Moving down the deserted passageway, both men jumped at the chirp of the radio. "_Major Sheppard_," Beckett's tinny voice emitted from out of no where, "_It has been over two hours. Please report your status."_

"We haven't found anything yet and are now on the top floor. Hopefully, we'll be done soon, doc."

"_That's not why I paged you, Major."_

Sheppard stopped walking and stared hard at the small device in his hand, "Are they…?"

"_They're not having a very good time of it, Major, but we have them stabilized. The samples that came back with Master Connor show an elevated level of the virus compared to this city so it is definitely emanating from where you are."_ Carson paused a moment to answer a question on his side before returning, "_Major, how are you doing?"_

"Not too bad. Just a touch of a headache, nothing I can't handle at the moment." Trying to divert attention from himself, he changed the subject. "How are things on your end? Everybody behaving themselves?" He didn't have to say who he was talking about.

"_I have everything under control. Now tell me about this headache_."

"It's just a headache. I'm tired and hungry and I want out of this damn suit. I've got a sick team and no way home. Don't you think I'm entitled to a headache?" he snapped.

"_Aye, lad, if that was the only cause for concern."_

Sheppard spotted Marty standing at the end of the hallway testing another door. When the Krahn gave it a tug to test the seal, he fell unexpectedly onto his backside as the door swung easily open. "Major?" he almost squeaked in disbelief, staring at something Sheppard couldn't see.

"Doc, I got to go." Shoving the radio back in his pocket, Sheppard hurried over to Marty and pulled him up to his feet, at the same time looking out the ancient exit. The rough hewn walls looked like an original mining tunnel. "Let's make this quick."

Marty swallowed as he stared in trepidation at the one place he'd never been. Meeting the major's concerned gaze, he nodded. "I'm ready."

"Good." Grabbing their sample cases, they stepped out of the city.

TBC

A/N: Gee, whatever's gonna happen now? See you soon!


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Hundreds of sealed culture dishes littered the lab tabletop; each one numbered, labeled, and entered into the computer. Stacked in various piles of location, species (human or Krahn), and time, the daunting task of finding the proverbial needle in the haystack appeared hopeless. Tapping the 'enter' key on his laptop, Carson wearily studied the next slide available and blinked.

"Carl, look at this," he muttered, shifting the pages to bring up a prior sample and setting it in comparison with the most recent. The scientist was instantly at his side, joined by Havis. "This is Connor's blood work taken during her recent physical, before our arrival." He flipped the screen to another sample. "This is from before she left with the major to go to the other city. And this," he gestured to the latest sample, "was taken an hour ago."

The three men peered closer at the blotchy images on the screen and then turned to glance towards Connor, where she and her team were seated at another table entering data into the Krahn system. She felt their stares immediately and looked up, "What? Did you find something?"

Havis gestured her over to join them, pointing to what Beckett had discovered. "These are your samples…" he started to say but found himself nudged to the side as she took over the keyboard.

Her fingers flew as she brought different screens to view of both she and Brae's information, discovering the women's were similar in appearance. She then brought up Havis' and noticed that his most recent was different from theirs. "What does this mean?" she asked, her color shifting to an orangish yellow.

Carson leaned over her shoulder to bring up the latest data from the two Krahns that brought back the first samples, "Your exposure rate has been gradually increasing. When was the last time you were down in the tunnels, or over to the other city before taking Dr. McKay or Major Sheppard?"

"A couple of weeks. A month at most. I don't have any work in that area. The other city is Master Linton's jurisdiction; I only go over when he requests my assistance."

"I thought as much. Now look at the data from your team members who got sick." The Atlantis physician switched the images, showing a more drastic change. "They went directly over, without wearing any protective gear. From what I've been able to discern, the other city has a much higher level of the disease in its system. So your team didn't have any time for their bodies to naturally acclimate to the increased level."

Carson stood straight, stretching his tired back, and paused a moment to contemplate what may be happening. "For over 11,000 years, the 'plague' has entered your environment in slow, gradual increments through the air, water, and filtered through the mountain itself. What if, when you wore the suit, it didn't protect you entirely, but permitted the higher level to gradually seep into your own body?"

Havis took over, noticing the distress in his wife's color. "It appears similar in degrees to the natural changes we've experienced over the millennia. But for some reason, this change is occurring at a much greater rate."

"Aye. The major said he and Marlton were checking the sealed exits of the upper level when he stopped communicating back to me. What if they discovered that one of the exits had been opened? What if the other city has been gradually exposed for a longer period of time and now they are in the midst of the next genetic metamorphic cycle?"

Dr. Turner nodded in agreement. "You might not have to look for an antidote for this city. Instead, a gradual increase of the other city's environment into this one will allow the cycle to continue here without the damaging effects of a blunt exposure."

Havis and Connor glanced at one another in relief before realizing that this didn't solve the problem for their guests. "We still need to find your antidote so that you may return to Atlantis."

SG: A

The tunnel was dark, and close to a hundred feet long, before Marlton and Sheppard exited out from the hidden passageway into the bright afternoon sunlight. Both men stopped and stared in awe down the treacherous mountain to the lush forest that climbed high in untouched glory, spreading out like a great coniferous carpet below them. And when they turned to admire the peak above, they were surprised to discover that they were only half way up the steep slope. Jutting rocks eventually disappeared underneath a heavy snowcap covering the crest, surrounded in a thick layer of clouds and fog. It was hard to imagine that this was a dead planet. That no living thing could survive on the surface…except for the worn trail leading away from the mouth of the tunnel into the distant tree line.

"Major?" Marty sounded bewildered as he took in the new environment surrounding him. "Major, I have never been outside of the cities and am uncertain in how to proceed." It was clear that he was waiting for Sheppard to take the lead.

Unfortunately, that was the last thing on the weary officer's mind. He was in an unknown location without a weapon, his usual backup was heaven only knew where, and that feeling of 'puke or die' that earlier had been a nagging uncomfortable constant in the back of his mind, had become a relentless gong currently exploding with every heartbeat between his eyes. He wasn't sure how long he would last, memories of McKay tossing his cookies still fresh in his mind, but the one thing he did know for certain was that a hike down a mountainside dressed like some sort of blue spaceman was out of the picture.

"Marty, we need to return and get backup. It's not safe to be out here."

Relief flooded the Krahns features behind the transparent face shield, and he eagerly turned back towards the tunnel. Sheppard followed close behind, his gaze firmly focused on the ground in front of him. He didn't notice Marty had come to a sudden stop, and he stumbled when he plowed tiredly into the scientist's back. Startled, he took a ragged step back and stumbled once more, his sense of balance suddenly deserting him as his legs buckled beneath him. A tidal wave of darkness flooded his very being and he gasped, drawing precious air into his lungs, trying his damndest to quell the rising nausea threatening to engulf him. Puking in the moon suit would so not be a good thing.

Firm hands gripped his arms, pulling him into a sitting position, while a muffled voice from far off called his name over and over. Swallowing convulsively, he blinked his eyes open to discover two worried faces peering back at him; one in the blue hazmat suit and the other dressed in a simple Krahn tunic. Either he was seeing double because of the raging fever he suspected he had, or they weren't alone.

"Who?" he mumbled, his train of thought precariously close to shutting down.

The blue suited figure glanced to the other, "Major? Major, we must return. Can you walk?" while attempting to pull Sheppard to his feet.

He nodded slightly, the movement sending fresh waves of fire through his temple and down his neck. Two sets of hands grasped his arms, lifting him to his feet. He tried to help them, he really did, but his uncooperative body had other ideas and began shutting off systems one by one; first his legs, then his hearing, and finally his sight. Blessed darkness swamped his very being and he sagged unceremoniously to the ground.

SG: A

Beckett paced like an angry tigerbehind the gate while the others dismantled the protective drape from around the structure. He'd had a bad feeling most of the afternoon, knowing that the major had become infected and then stopped transmitting. When Marlton finally paged, stating that Sheppard had collapsed and was being transported back, the physician had been sitting at Rodney's side during one of the physicists more lucid moments. That in itself created a whole new problem, with the scientist demanding to accompany them, only to fall flat on his face when he attempted to stand after having firmly been told 'no'. His health was steadily declining and the antidote was still far from realization.

The 'whoosh' of the activated gate and the flurry of members reattaching the cover signaled to the Scott that his missing teammate was on his way. Waiting impatiently outside the decontamination unit, he watched as two figures tumbled through the event horizon, landing in a heap on the floor. One figure quickly stripped off the confining suit, revealing Marlton, who then carefully assisted the Major.

From what little Carson could see, Sheppard appeared almost completely unresponsive, with the Krahn doing everything possible to keep the ill man on his feet. Soon, both men exited out of the chamber into the gateroom, surrounded by concerned teammates. In a matter of moments, the major was whisked off to the makeshift infirmary, leaving Marlton to stand alone as the third figure came through the gate before it shut down.

TBC

A/N: Thanks to Talbert and Emergencyfan for stepping in and giving me beta help and ideas while Gaffer is on vacation. Just a few more chapters to go!


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Carson rubbed his stubbled face briskly, trying to increase the blood flow to his taxed brain, and get it functioning once more. Fatigue clung to him like a weighted lead blanket, pulling what little reserves of energy he had left out of him, leaving only a shell: a hollow, empty, pathetic, useless shell. For that's all he was, he thought, glancing wearily at the three beds occupied by his dying friends.

He leaned forward to cup his mouth with his hand, his elbow propped on the tabletop to give him some balance as he turned back to the laptop. The bright screen mocked him, blurring before his eyes, while exhaustion robbed him of the ability to study the latest data. He and Turner had gone over everything they could think of: plagues, poisons, bacteria, biological warfare, and still they came up empty. What was left? He glanced back over to the still figures, watching as they struggled for breath, for now it appeared that pneumonia desired to rear its ugly head, sapping the very breath from their lungs.

Of course, he had known it would only be a matter of time. The amount of vomiting combined with their limited supplies and inadequate medical help left them victims of aspirating the vile stomach contents back into their lungs. He and Turner were physically incapable of helping all three at once.

Havis and his team were trying to help, to somehow release themselves from the guilt of causing the sickness to their new friends. They patiently followed every direction, they cleaned up every mess, they changed soiled bedding, and they bathed the heated bodies that had grown silent.

Carson pulled up Rodney's latest white blood cell counts before sighing heavily. The scientist had somehow remained conscious after they'd left to retrieve the major and was waiting for them to return from the gateroom. He never said a word, following their every movement through haunted half-lidded eyes, seeing his friend gasp as waves of sickness crashed over him. He'd somehow found the strength to sit up, his blanket clutched tightly about his shoulders to ward of the chills that shook his body like a rag doll, before pushing the empty bowl from beneath his bed with his foot over to Sheppard. It was the only thing he could possibly do to help his friend, and when the major briefly glanced up to meet the Canadian's gaze, his miserable hazel eyes connected with the blue, and he gave a small nod of thanks.

It was not long after, that the persistent cough Rodney had tried to conceal from the others turned harsh, phlegm breaking free leaving him breathless and blue. They'd tried to make him more comfortable, adjusting the increase of oxygen to his starving body, and adding yet another antibiotic to the cocktail already being pumped into his system. But it appeared to no avail. He lost consciousness, finally succumbing to the unknown assailant ravaging his weary mind, body, and soul.

Then, to make matters worse, Teyla followed soon behind as she too began to lose the battle.

The major lay on his own bed, watching every movement in the room, his neutral expression never once showing any sign of blame. He knew it was only a matter of time before he would be next.

"Bloody hell," Carson whispered, scrubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands, returning to his work with a desperate desire to find the answer.

"Doctor Beckett," a male voice spoke softly from the doorway, careful not to wake the sleeping occupants.

He looked up to wave whomever was looking for him into the room, surprised to find Connor's assistant Marlton, and another figure encased in one of the biohazard suits.

"Yes, lad. Can I help you?"

Marlton nodded, gesturing to the suited individual, "Doctor, this is Master Linton. He is the science coordinator of our sister city." When Carson didn't move, Marlton continued hastily, "He has been researching the illness in his laboratory and may be able to assist you."

The Atlantis physician steepled his fingers, pressing them thoughtfully to his chin, as he studied the Krahn scientists. The uncanny feeling that the other shoe was about to drop engulfed him with a sense of dread mixed with anger. He heard Sheppard shift on the bed from behind him, actually making his way over to sit at Becket's side, his IV pole close to his side.

"You were outside," the major's gruff voice said accusingly.

"Yes, I was," Master Linton confirmed, shifting uncomfortably more so from his current predicament than from the confining suit. "If you could spare me a moment to explain…"

"Marlton?" Connor stepped into the room, Havis and Turner right behind her, looking between the assistant and the other figure. "Temple? Why are you here? Is something wrong in your city?"

"He was about to tell us why he was outside the city," Carson replied. He could feel the heat radiating off the major and turned to direct him back to bed, but the look of sheer determination on the American's face convinced him to remain quiet.

"Temple, what did you do?" Connor demanded, her color turning a livid deep red. Havis' hand dropped to her shoulder, preventing her from doing something she might regret later.

The new member to the group licked his lips as he studied the individuals before him. Stepping up to the table with Beckett and Sheppard, he nodded to the laptop screen before taking a seat on one of the empty stools. "I also have been studying the virus, for close to a year." The room remained silent as they waited for him to continue. "I was doing random routine testing throughout the facility, checking the air filtration systems, when I discovered a higher than normal degree of the plague in the upper level of the city. Upon further investigation, I found it to be emanating from the area of what should have been the sealed hatch."

"I began to run some tests, curious as to what I might find, having never been outside the city. I became ill but kept it to myself as I continued my investigation. Eventually, whatever I'd been exposed to passed and I discovered that I was able to withstand the higher degree so I broke the rest of the seal on the outer door."

Connor gasped, taking a step forward but stopped again by Havis. "What were you thinking?" she hissed. "You could have killed all of us!"

Master Linton shook his head 'no'. "I don't believe so. Over the past month, I've been adjusting the filtration system to allow more of the virus to spread through the city, gradually building up the occupant's immunity. I did it in such small increments that no one even noticed, and no one got sick."

Havis thumped his hand on the table, making the seated individuals jump. "Why would you do such a thing? Taking that risk is unacceptable."

"Haven't we lived this way long enough? Look at us," Temple insisted and then pointed to the guests. "Now look at them. We used to look like them. We used to live above ground instead of cowering in the mountains from a foe we haven't seen in over 10,000 years. How do we know the Wraith will even come back here?"

"Who were you to make that decision for the rest of us?" Connor demanded. "Look what the exposure has done to them! They are dying because of you. That could have been all of us."

"But it isn't." Temple shifted on the stool to stare at Beckett, "I'm sorry, Doctor, but I started this long before you ever arrived to our city and I wouldn't change anything I've done."

Carson sat still, forcing himself to take slow even breaths. If he dared to think about what the scientist had done, the risks he had taken, the Scot was sure he'd become sick. "You say you've been studying the virus for close to a year, did you find any way to combat it?"

The Krahn in question remained quiet, contemplating the strangers and the displayed screen on the laptop. "I can't tell you."

This time Havis wasn't fast enough to stop his wife as Connor leaped forward and decked her co-worker, knocking the Krahn clean off the stool, sending him crashing to the floor. Before she could finish her intentions, Havis caught her by the arm while Sheppard placed himself between her and her victim.

"No," Sheppard grunted before he gripped the table when the room did a serious dip and loop. He would have fallen if Carson didn't grab him from behind and lower him back to the cot. Gritting his teeth through the spasm ripping across his gut, he swallowed the harsh bile his stomach threatened to emit. "He knows the antidote," he wheezed clenching his eyes tight against the pain.

"I know, lad." Injecting a substance into the major's IV, Carson waited patiently, watching the man's short tense breaths slow, releasing him from pain into sleep. "I'll get it from him, John, I promise," he said softly. "I will not let you, or the other's die. I give you my word."

TBC

A/N: Thanks again, Talbert, for the beta. It's winding down folks… just a couple more. Thanks again for the awesome notes and encouragement.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: The term 'writers block' doesn't even come close to whatever it is that has been stopping me from writing more to this story. I've brought it up over a dozen times in the past week, only to find myself staring at this and being completely clueless. I think it's more of a case of 'writer's void'. But, you all can thank emergencyfan for her sarcastic wit that actually helped jump start this once again. Her daily word count on what she was writing was an inspiring challenge! That's what friends are for!

Chapter 12

Carson was deep into his next set of trials when the persistent beep of the radio finally tugged at his consciousness, causing him to look for the dreaded little piece of equipment and make the incessant noise stop before it woke his patients. A quick glance about the room proved that that hadn't happened and he tapped the call button. "What?" he hissed quietly.

"_Doc?"_ Ford sounded a bit unsure at the Scot's tone.

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

The young officer paused a moment, silently praying Beckett wouldn't explode at his request. _"I know you're busy, sir, but I could really use your assistance down here at the gate."_

Casting a quick glance around the room and not spying anyone else who could go and help, he sighed, "Is it an emergency? Are you sick?"

"_No, sir, I'm fine. But..."_

"But what, lieutenant? Spit it out, lad," he snapped.

"_It's Dr. Kavanagh who needs you."_

Carson leaned back and glared at the ceiling, this was worse than dragging something out of the major. "Is he sick?"

"_No, sir. He's… he's… uhhh… kind of stuck."_

"Ford," the Scot growled, losing what little patience he had left, "what do you mean 'stuck'? If he isn't sick, why do you need me?"

Silence.

A sense of dread washed over Beckett. "Is he bleeding?"

"_I can't tell, sir."_

Oh, well that's not good. "What do you mean, you can't tell?"

"_It's kind of complicated. Could you please just come down? I… we need your help."_

Sighing heavily, Carson clenched his eyes shut, trying to hold his own headache at bay. "Put him on the radio."

Ford's own sigh emanated over the radio. _"Uh, I can't do that sir."_

That's it; he just got pushed over the edge. "Why, the bloody hell, not!" he snapped.

"_Doc, he's trapped under a malp."_

Carson grabbed a med kit and ran toward the stairs.

SG: A

The sight that greeted him from the foot of the stairway made him stop and shake his head in disbelief. Just like Ford had said, Kavanagh was under the piece of equipment with only his legs visible. It almost looked like a bad gag set up and if things weren't so dire upstairs, the Scot might have laughed.

It was clear from the state of disarray that surrounded the gate that the two men had been working for an extended amount of time. The decontamination unit was absent and pieces of machinery littered the floor, one looking very much like the lid piece to the DHD. A malp carrying a large crate of tools and diagnostic equipment sat at the base of the steps with the pair of feet jutting out from underneath with Ford at it's side, a look of utter disgust on his face.

"What the bloody hell is he doing underneath that thing?"

Ford flinched at the Scot's tone. "He, uh, Dr. Zelenka that is, said to attach the power unit to the main computer system so that we could increase the level…" stopping when Carson held up a hand and made the rolling motion to get to what caused the current situation. "The malp became engaged and moved, and…" he pointed to the twitching feet, rolling his eyes.

Dropping his med kit to the floor, Beckett hunkered down to look under the machine when a burst of loud static surprised him, bringing his head up with a jerk. A painful thump against the crate made him momentarily see stars.

"_Lieutenant, is Dr.Beckett at your position yet?"_ Weir's voice filled the large room.

"Yes, ma'am."

"_Carson, what is Dr. Kavanagh's condition?" _She didn't get the chance to say anymore before the sound of Zelenka swearing loudly could be heard in the background of the transmission. "_Radek, enough. This isn't helping the situation_."

"I just got here, Elizabeth. Give me a moment."

More static erupted and then the Czech's voice came back over, _"Lieutenant, from what you've told me, you should be able to free 'Doctor' Kavanagh by reversing malp __slowly while Dr. Beckett pulls fool out by his feet."_

Carson remained quiet, his gaze traveling back up the staircase and then to the protruding feet. Swallowing back the anger he felt rising like a bubbling cauldron in his chest, he took a deep breath, releasing it slowly while counting to ten. "Dr. Kavanagh, are you in any pain?"

The scientists reply was muffled and unintelligible.

Leaning back down once more, he studied the undercarriage and tightly wedged body, cursing under his breath about medieval torture devices and never leaving the base again. He tapped the scientists shin, "Doctor, I didn't hear you. Are you in any pain?"

This time he clearly made out the arrogant man's voice. "I'm stuck," Kavanagh hissed.

"I know that," Carson gritted, his small amount of patience long gone, "and we're working to get you out. Are. You. Hurt?"

"My arm's caught and I can't feel it."

Carson's head dipped wearily to his chest. What could possibly happen next?"

Ford tapped the Scot hesitantly on the shoulder, stepping back quickly when the tightly clenched blue eyes looked up to glare at him. "I'm ready to move it, sir." At Beckett's nod, he began to back the malp off Kavanagh until the scientist gave out a hideous, pain-filled yell.

"Stop!" he cried out, pumping his legs trying to push himself back under the machine again.

Beckett's eyes shot up to Ford's and the Lieutenant quickly disengaged. With it no longer moving, the physician tried to push Kavanagh's legs aside and possibly see what had happened.

"What's wrong, lad?"

The legs shifted uncomfortably as the scientist attempted to free himself. He mumbled something that both Ford and Beckett missed.

"Say again," Ford prompted.

Another mumble.

"Doctor…" Carson threatened.

It was Connor suddenly standing up from the other side of the Malp, shaking her head, which caught both men by surprise. "Master Tenbrook, ma'am, when did you get here?"

She stared at both men, her color an annoyed shade of red, "His hair is caught."

Ford and Beckett glanced at each other and then back to the legs, a slow smile spreading across their faces. Ford's voice cracked, "His hair, ma'am?"

She nodded, reaching into the tool crate in search of something sharp. Locating what she was looking for, she disappeared.

"Uh, Doc?" Ford began.

Carson merely held up his hand and waited. He had a feeling the Krahn scientist was about to do something that he'd wanted to do for a long time. It was a shame the others weren't here to see this. Hearing a brief yelp from Kavanagh, he allowed himself a small devious smile, raising a sly brow to Ford.

A moment later, Connor stood back up. "Try it again, Lieutenant."

Gripping the controls, the young officer again began to back the Malp off Kavanagh, this time revealing the pale scientist lying on the floor. His eyes were wide behind his wire rimmed glasses while gripping his right wrist tightly to his chest.

But it was his head that made Carson close his eyes, begging the heavens for a camera to magically appear. Back in control, he peered at the scientist and shook his head in mock sympathy. "Laddie, you're gonna need to see a barber when we get back." The left side of the scientist's head was free of the straggly blonde hair while the right side remained.

Pulling the scientist to his feet, the physician manipulated the sore wrist, finding it free of any injury. Grateful not to have another major incident, he opened his kit, removing two items and setting them on a closed crate. "It appears to have only been in a tight pinch. I can wrap it for you, give you some Tylenol for the discomfort, but that should pass soon."

Kavanagh remained strangely quiet, studying the Scot closely before he nodded. When Carson completed his task and turned to go back up the stairs, the scientist stopped him. Taking a deep breath, he held up a pair of metal snips and ground his teeth. "Could you please…?" stopping and leaving the rest of his question unspoken.

This time it was Ford staring at the floor, coughing back his laughter because of the priceless look of disbelief on Beckett's face. The doctor appeared momentarily horrified at having to touch Kavanagh's hair. Where were McKay and Sheppard when you really needed them?

Without saying a word, Carson reached out and snipped off the long remaining strands. Handing them and the snips back to their owner, he made a beeline for the stairwell, racing to the infirmary before he choked to death on his restrained laughter.

Zelenka's forgotten voice snapped back across the radio_. "Well, it is about time. Now that trauma of hair is over, we get work done before wormhole closes."_

A/N Back for more… As you can tell, we needed a break from the drama to pick on the evil one for a moment. Bwahaha! One chapter to go… I think.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The smile melted off Carson's face the minute he stepped back into his makeshift lab/infirmary. Once more assaulted with the dire situation of his desperately ill friends, his steps grew weary, the burden returning heavily to his shoulders.

Havis looked up from his project to meet the Scot's gaze. The once vibrantly colorful physician appeared pale, almost muted, as he delved back into another pile of Petri dishes. A fragile container slipped from his hand, clattering sharply on the metal tabletop and he stared at it in disgust. "This is no time to become clumsy," he scolded himself.

Whatever else he may have said was lost on Beckett, who's eyes sharply darted to the dish and then back out at the hallway from which he'd just come. Brows tightly scrunched, he appeared to have momentarily frozen, so completely lost in thought that he forgot to move before he suddenly jerked, snapping open his laptop. His fingers raced over the keys as he pulled up several files, barely stopping to read each as he then retrieved another.

Dr. Turner entered the room and spied his colleague dissecting pages of text, then rushing to Havis' table and rummaging through its contents before taking a pile of the Petri dishes back to his own. "Carson, what's going on?"

Snapping a slide under the microscope, he didn't stop to look up, "I think I know how to stop this."

"Really?" Carl took up the empty spot on the opposite side of the table, waiting expectantly for Beckett to explain.

Carson's blue eyes shot up to meet his, and a clear look of determination filled the physician's face. "It's all right here, lad, everything we've missed." He slipped another slide under the scope, displaying it on the view screen. A jumbled mass of platelets appeared in various shapes and sizes; not human looking at all.

"Whose are those?" Havis asked, studying the image before them.

"This one is Master Linton's from when he returned with the major." Grabbing another, he put it up on screen, "And this is Marlton's, before he left, and after his return."

The other men leaned forward, their mouths agape.

"It can't be that simple." Turner pulled Sheppard's blood work up and studied the results of each of his tests. "Son of a b….."

"Aye," Carson agreed, shaking his head.

Havis appeared momentarily dumbfounded, "I don't understand how that is possible."

"I'll explain on the way, but we must hurry now and get my people on the surface as soon as we can." Picking up his discarded radio from earlier, Carson signaled Ford. "Lieutenant, I need for you and Dr. Kavanagh to join me immediately."

"_Sir? What about the gate?"_ the young lieutenant instantly replied.

"Oh, bloody hell," Carson grunted, running his hands distractedly through his hair, "I forgot about that. Is it still functional, lad?"

"_We are almost finished. Last time I talked to Dr. Z, he gave us just a few more updates to complete."_

"Will we still be able to dial out and back to the other city?"

"_Yes, sir."_

"Then stay put and get that gate finished. We'll come down to you."

"_Doc, do we need to put the decon unit back up?"_

"No, we only need to suit up. How long until you're finished, lad?"

"_Actually, we have it almost completed. Fifteen minutes max."_

"We'll meet you there." Carson clicked off his radio and tossed it onto the table. He didn't even notice when it skidded off the other side. Instead, he grabbed a hazmat suit and handed it to Turner, "We need to get them dressed." Turning to Havis, he started ticking names off on his fingers, "Because of their prior exposure to the other city, I will need Marlton, Dr. Linton, Connor, and her assistant, Brae."

Watching Havis quickly disappear out the door, he ducked back into the hallway. "Have them bring their suits," he requested and saw the figure nod before he stepped into the lift.

"Carson, are you going to tell me what we are doing? We can't leave their IV's in while they're suited up."

"I know." Chewing his bottom lip, he grabbed a syringe and loaded it with an antibiotic, jabbing each IV port and emptying the contents into his patients. "Pack a medical bag with everything we'll need to take with us. Once we're topside, we can reestablish their lines."

"Are you sure this will work?"

"It has to, lad, because we don't have any other options. If they continue as they are, Rodney and Teyla won't last much longer. And the Major," he sighed, "he may have a small chance." Taping a band aid on the back of Sheppard's hand over the needle site, Carson patted the sleeping man's face, "Major, wake up."

The sleepy figure stirred but didn't open his eyes. Another firmer tap caused one bleary eye to open. "Doc? What's goin' on?" he slurred.

"We have to go, and I need you to get in a hazmat suit."

The sleepy eye closed, opening at another tap to his cheeks. He blinked hard, trying to clear the fog in his brain from the drugs and illness raging throughout his system. Dragging himself to a seated position with help from his friend, he reached a shaky hand out for the blue gear, not bothering to ask why.

Carson worked on Rodney's unconscious figure next. The scientist was too far out of it to know what was going on. With a lot of tugging and pushing, he was encased in the gear, his hot feverish breaths steaming over the visor.

Five Krahns entered the room, three encased in the now familiar protective garb that the strangers had brought with them.

"Havis, I need Marlton and Master Linton to carry Dr. McKay down to the gate. Connor, can you and Brae handle Teyla?" The women nodded, both assisting him in getting the Athosian in the suit before placing her on a stretcher.

With the others geared up, Carson suited up beside Dr. Turner. "Ready?"

The dark scientist nodded. "We don't have any other options available that I can see."

"Right." Carson rummaged about the table top and then the floor in search of his missing radio. A pale blue hand appeared in front of him holding the missing object. "Thank you, Havis."

The man's face remained neutral as he glanced about the group, "What else can I do to help you, Dr. Beckett?"

"Help us down to the gate."

Havis nodded, picking up the medical bag, waiting for the others to pass.

"Lieutenant, are you ready?" Carson paged.

"_Yes, sir, we are set to go."_

"Got your suits on?"

"_Affirmative."_

"Then dial the gate for the other city because we are on our way."

The small lift could only accommodate one stretcher and two individuals at a time, so Beckett and Turner lugged a sluggish major down the stairs, not wanting to waste any time.

Sheppard clung to the men with what little strength he had while trying to keep his rolling stomach from another outburst. "Where we goin'?"

Gripping the weak hand that was wrapped over his shoulder more securely, the doctor nodded down to the gate, "Back to the surface."

The dark haired man glanced down to see McKay being carried to the open horizon, Teyla following. "Why?"

Reaching the main floor, Carson gripped the major more firmly, letting Turner take the medical supplies from Havis. With the group gathered, ready to go, he addressed them all. "The plague was released over 11,000 years ago, filtering down into the city, gradually mutating all of you from your original human appearance to your current state, correct?"

The Krahns nodded.

"While studying the blood work of each of you, I discovered that Master Linton's was the most evolved of any Krahn. And due to his continual exposure to the surface, he has become immune to the plague exposed in the atmosphere. But upon closer inspection, I noticed that of all his platelets are changing once more…back to our," he waved his hand to his team mates, "current state."

"He's becoming human?" Havis shook his head. "How is that possible?"

"Think of how the gates work- the string analogy. If we put the ends together, instead of following the entire loop, the distance of travel is greatly reduced while still traversing the same amount of space. The plague has filtered for centuries down into your cities, mutating on its own as well as in you. But above, it's exposed to the natural environment, which has eventually overridden it over the centuries. For us to become exposed to the air above, we will be breathing in the cure."

This time Connor interrupted the explanation, "You're saying it's safe to go above?"

"I believe if you do so gradually, like Master Linton, yes, I think so."

"So, why must you go now?" Havis asked.

Sheppard grinned faintly, squeezing Carson's shoulder lightly, "Because for us, it will be like going through the gate?"

"Very good, Major. Now, we need to leave." He gestured for the stretcher bearers to depart first, following them closely with Sheppard in tow.

Epilogue

Rodney lay in the infirmary, back on Atlantis, twiddling his thumbs. He really didn't have the energy to do anything else. When a paper airplane wafted gently across the room, landing with precision on his chest, he rolled his head to the side and spied the dark eyes of the major staring at him. "What?" His voice still sounded as though it was full of gravel even though he hadn't been sick in over forty eight hours.

"Just checking. You're awfully quiet over there."

The scientist's eyes drooped shut, not having enough strength yet to keep them open any great length of time. His left hand reached carefully across his chest to rest on the small plane. "How long?" he whispered.

"We've been back four days," Sheppard replied from somewhere closer than Rodney remembered.

Cracking his eyes back open, he discovered his friend trying to hoist himself on the bed next to his own. "Beckett's gonna have a cow if he sees you up."

That didn't stop his friend. Picking up the pillow from the head of the bed, he rested it on his knees, then propped his elbows on the soft padding, "He's off helping take Teyla back over to the village. She wanted to be with her people while she recuperated."

"Major…" Rodney grunted, looking past his friend's shoulder.

"Moo?" the dark haired man guessed with a grimace.

A slow smile spread over the sleepy Canadian's face. "I hear you're after my job," he said quietly to the Scot.

"Nay, lad. I've had enough excitement to last me for quite some time."

Carson patted the mattress Sheppard was sitting on, "Lay down before you fall down, lad."

Pulling a blanket up over his feet, the major plunked back onto the bed. "How come Teyla got to leave, but I have to stay here?"

"Do you really want Halling and the others looking after you? I thought you'd had enough of alien medicine."

Sheppard rolled his eyes at what he remembered going through over the past few days. Shifting on to his side, he watched the steady rise and fall of McKay's chest. "You did good, Doc," he whispered to Carson.

The Scot nodded and then grabbed a chair, taking a seat between the two beds, "Aye, but it was a little too close for me. If I'd only discovered what to do sooner…"

"You pulled one out of the hat. Usually that's McKay's or my job. Never second guess what you've done." Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly, his own eyes drifting shut.

Beckett stayed put, listening to the sound of the two men sleeping. Certain that they wouldn't wake; he stood up and made his way to the wall unit, turning down the lights. "I can't believe I was complaining of being bored," he whispered, returning to his seat. "I'll never do it again."

**The End**

A/N Thanks for the beta help from Gaffer, Talbert, and Emergencyfan. You each stepped up and helped when I needed you.

Thanks to the rest of you for all of your kind notes and feedback. This has not been an easy story to write for some reason and I have to admit I'm so glad it's over!

Take care! You guys are great! Jen


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